Brandon had been going running by the lake in the mornings lately. He’d asked Maria to come with him, but Maria always said no. She hadn’t been back to the lake since that night with Delilah.

Maria wondered how Altagracia knew Brandon ran in the mornings. Somehow the spirits knew everything.

Maria swallowed again as the last letters faded from the mirror, leaving no trace behind.

It was all set now.

She’d give him one more chance to change his mind. And if he didn’t take it, then after tomorrow morning, Maria wouldn’t ever have to worry again.

12

WHAT’S TO BE DONE

The knocking at the door was like nothing Mateo had ever heard.

It wasn’t really knocking. More like banging. It sounded really, really angry, like something out of a bad action movie.

Mateo rolled over, still groggy. If he ignored the sound, maybe the psychopath at the door would go away.

But there was no room to roll over. Brandon was splayed out over most of the twin bed.

Mateo groaned and looked at his phone. It was just before six in the morning. They were alone. Brandon’s roommate rowed crew, so he left before dawn to work out with his teammates.

Mateo stretched out to loop his arm around Brandon, determined to go back to sleep. Miraculously, Brandon didn’t move.

But when Mateo touched Brandon’s shoulder, he felt him shaking.

Brandon was awake all right. Mateo leaned over to see that his eyes were open wide.

He was terrified.

Oh, crap. Brandon used to get panic attacks when he was a kid. Was some random early morning knocking really enough to set one off?

“Hey, relax,” Mateo told him. “I’ll get it. Don’t worry.”

Brandon didn’t react. He didn’t even move. Weird.

Mateo climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of Brandon’s pajama pants, and crossed to the door. The banging went on, the door shaking on its hinges. Who the hell would do this so early on a Saturday? Mateo doubted it was a dorm monitor—Ross or one of the others would have said something by now.

Mateo’s hand was on the doorknob when he felt a flash of fear. Maybe he shouldn’t open it.

No. That was stupid. Mateo wasn’t a little kid anymore, hiding from La Llorona in the dark.

Mateo swung the door open, letting the light from the hallway flood the room. At first all he could see was a dim outline of someone standing on the other side. He blinked three times before he could make out who the figure was.

Maria Lyon.

“Hey there, Princess,” Mateo said. “It’s kinda early.”

Maria blinked at him. Her fist was still raised, like he’d caught her midbang. “What are you doing here?”