The ringing phone was so loud it felt like it was coming from inside her head.

Lily bent down, pain shooting up her legs in protest, and tugged at the edge of the carpet nearest the door. If she could pull it up she could slide the phone underneath the bottom edge of the door. Push it out into the hallway, where someone would hear and get help.

The carpet wouldn’t budge. It was glued down too tight. Lily could only pull up a tiny corner. She pushed it back, yanking it with all her strength, while the phone kept shrieking in her ears, getting louder still.

It was no use. She could only get that corner. It was barely enough to slide a match under the door, but it was enough for Lily to get her first good look at the floor underneath the carpet.

It was a black-and-white diamond pattern. The same pattern that was in the old dining hall next door.

Lily jerked her head back toward the window.

It was right next to the wall that separated the room from the dining hall. So close it didn’t make sense to put a window there. Not unless it had once been a window somewhere else.

Not unless this room—her room—had been part of the dining hall when the house was built.

No.

Oh God, no.

The dining hall. The Ouija board. Where all this had started. Where these things—whatever they were—had first entered their lives.

How long had the things been creeping into her dreams at night? How long had they been whispering into her ears as she slept?

Lily climbed to her feet. Her legs hurt so much it was like walking through fire to make her way to the window, but she did it anyway, yanking on the latch to unlock it. She’d throw the phone outside. She didn’t care if it shattered on the sidewalk.

The window glass wouldn’t move. It was sealed as tight as the door.

The screeching turned into a series of high, sharp sounds. They matched perfectly with the beat of Lily’s heart. She bent down, the pain in her left leg excruciating, and picked the phone up off the floor.

It was hot. White-hot. She’d have blisters on her hands from the burns.

That was all right. It would be over soon. She had an idea.

She moved toward the open bathroom door, yanked up the toilet seat lid, and dropped the phone into the water. It sank to the bottom.

Silence. Blessed, blessed silence.

It was over.

Lily had bowed her head to say a prayer of thanks when a sudden noise behind her made her jump.

Water. She turned around.

The faucet was on full blast. Piping-hot water filled the sink. Steam poured out into the room.