The lake glimmered to his right. Something white flew past in the corner of his eye as he ran. A bird or something. No, bigger than a bird.

La Llorona.

Mateo felt himself stop running and turn to face the lake.

There she was, walking across the water.

Mateo wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to turn back, run away, do whatever it took to make sure she couldn’t get him. Instead he stood frozen to that spot, watching the ghostly figure walk farther out into the lake, sinking down into the muck that must be on the bottom.

Wait. La Llorona wouldn’t sink.

This wasn’t her.

It was a girl. A human girl.

It was Lily Boiten.

Oh, holy shit.

“Lily!” he screamed. “Lily! Stop!”

She didn’t hear him. Didn’t turn.

He thundered down the hill, his feet pounding, his leg screaming with every step. Lily was already up to her waist in the lake water, and she was moving forward steadily. Her crutches were tossed aside on the shore. How far out was the whirlpool? The one that had killed all those kids years ago?

He tried to dial 911, but his phone just let out a long beep, then shut off. Screw this. He tossed it aside and kept running.

That morning, he’d known there was something wrong with Lily and he’d just . . . left her there. He hadn’t even told anyone that he’d found her at the window.

This was all his fault.

“Lily!” he screamed again. “Stop! Don’t do it!”

He was close enough now that she should’ve heard him, but she didn’t stop. Didn’t even turn her head.

The water was up to her chest. Her sweatshirt was soaking wet, but she wasn’t shivering.

Oh God. He’d known there was something wrong. He’d known.

“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted when he got to the lake’s edge. “Lily, turn around!”

Her eyes were wide-open, but she didn’t seem to have heard. The water was at her neck.

Mateo kicked off his sneakers, thrust his injured foot into the water, and strode forward. He would’ve been only ten paces from Lily if they were on land, but the freezing water held him back, made him crawl at a snail’s pace. Lily was moving much faster.

It was just like when he saw Delilah from his window. He couldn’t do anything that time, either. Or maybe he just hadn’t tried hard enough.

“Stop!” he tried to call out, but his breath froze in his throat. He was waist-deep. The water was ice-cold despite the warm air above it. His teeth chattered.

Only the top half of Lily’s head was above the water. Her eyes were still wide-open. He was so close he could see her braid floating on the surface of the lake behind her.