“What is it?” she asked without looking down. “Does it ask what your fear is?”

“No,” Matt answered in a quiet voice, like he was reluctant to share whatever it was that he read. “It’s asking about yours.”

Becca’s heart skipped a beat. “Hang on to something for a second, Frankie,” she called, bringing her eyes down at last to look at the unfolded note in his hand.

What is Becca Zamolo afraid of?

“No,” she whispered. “No.”

Becca had known this time would come. Heck, she’d even had a feeling in her gut when they first started searching for the trapdoor that this clue might finally be the one to call her out. But that didn’t make it any easier to consider the answer to the Game Master’s question. There’s no way the Game Master could have figured out her real worst fear, right? Except . . . they’d figured out everyone else’s.

Shoot.

“Are you all right?” Matt asked gently. “You kind of look like you’re about to ralph.”

“I’m fine,” Becca insisted, but suddenly her stomach was churning from fear and too much dirt cake.

“Maybe you should all come up here,” Frankie called down. “I’m starting to get seriously freaked out surrounded by all this darkness. It’s that stupid ghost story! I think it’s getting to me.”

“Stay put. We’re on our way,” Miguel called up, taking it upon himself to be the next to climb up the bookshelf then into the attic. After Miguel, Kylie went, and as soon as Kylie had finished, Danny followed, his camera hanging from the strap that was looped around his neck.

“Do you want to go next?” Matt asked Becca when they were the only ones left. “Or should I?”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” she whispered, fearing what might be waiting for her in the attic. “I’ll come last.”

“Whatever your fear is,” Matt said, “I hope you know you’re going to get through it. We’re all here for you.”

Becca’s heart swelled with gratitude for her amazing friends. “I know you are,” she said, at least feeling a little bit better from his encouragement. “And I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

Matt grinned before scurrying up the bookshelf to meet the others. His parting words left Becca with the reenergized motivation that she needed, and she decided that she was ready. Carefully, she began her climb up the bookshelf, her foot slipping on the second step. As she got higher and higher, she tried not to look down to the floor of the library.

“Hey, Becca,” Danny called down as he filmed her stepping onto the ladder to the attic. “You never did tell us what it is that you’re most afraid of.”