“How did you know I was out here?” Maria said.

“I heard your footsteps. You can hear every single thing in this damn house. Now get in here. We’re going to be late.”

Maria followed her in and sat down on her bed. She could just go back to sleep. Maybe there would be no more dreams this time. She could sleep the way Delilah did.

“Hurry up and put it on.” There was a tone in Lily’s voice Maria had never heard before. It sounded high-pitched, like she was about to cry. “Just put it on, Maria.”

Lily held something in her hand. Maria’s homecoming dress. She was shaking it back and forth on the hanger.

Oh, right. Tonight was homecoming. Maria blinked up at Lily. She couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Look, please, I’m begging you.” Lily really was about to cry. “Just put it on and comb your hair and try to act normal.”

“What’s the point?” Maria said. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, and the point is, people already think there’s something up with you. If you aren’t there tonight they’ll know for sure. We’re already going to be late, and that’s bad enough.” Lily yanked the short, flared black dress off its hanger. Maria’s mother had ordered the dress online and had it shipped to the school last month. “You don’t have time to shower, so just put on some deodorant and wash that dirt off your face.”

There was dirt on her face? Maria ran a finger along her forehead and pulled it back. Sure enough, her fingertip was coated with dust.

“I can’t pretend everything’s normal,” Maria said. “It hasn’t been normal for three weeks. Not since we used that Ouija board.”

“Right. I get it. It’s my fault. Fine. Can you please get dressed so we can get out of this room?”

Lily glanced toward the window. She kept doing that.

“It isn’t your fault.” Maria tugged her dirty gray sweatshirt over her head and stood up to peel off her jeans. She went into the bathroom to wash her face, leaving the door open. “I’m the one Altagracia wanted.”

“Altagracia,” Lily repeated. She hopped into the bathroom on her right foot and leaned against the doorframe, rubbing her hands against the cold. “We’re still talking about her, then.”

“She’s the one orchestrating everything.” Maria patted a towel against her face, working out her thoughts as she spoke them aloud. “There are others, but she’s in charge. She’s the one who made the chandelier fall.”

“Chandeliers fall, Maria. That thing was old. It isn’t magic, it’s gravity.” Lily drummed her pink-painted nails on the doorframe. Lily’s nails were usually perfect, but today they were ragged under the polish, as if she’d bitten them too far down to disguise it.