“Good. And you pulled those new sounds, right?”

She holds up her phone and presses a button. The giggling of little children plays softly.

“Beautiful,” Jackson says.

“And…wait for it.” Beth presses play again. The sound morphs to little girls screaming. It’s sick, but you have to hand it to Beth, she can be very inventive.

“Love it,” Jackson smiles. “Okay, so Babe, I’ll give you the tap when it’s time. First we’ll do the giggling. Then we’ll amp it up from there.”

“Sure,” Beth says.

“Ange,” Jackson says. “Same as last time. I’ll cue your walkie with two clicks. That means Mrs. Green has heard the giggling and you need to react.”

I nod, only half listening, and test a loose floorboard with my foot. This whole house feels like it’s going to fall apart.

“Earth to Ange,” Jackson says.

“Got it,” I say.

Next to me, Elliot’s EMF meter chirps. He takes it out of his pocket. The ticker bounces a little. Elliot’s brow furrows.

Jackson surveys the team. “We need to act like we’re making contact with multiple entities, right?” he says. “So milk the shit out of it. Maybe I can even get some extra dough out of her.”

He continues talking a mile a minute. I nod in the appropriate pauses, but then a sharp, aching pain shoots across my forehead. Oh, no. Slowly, the ringing noise returns, drifting into my ears and drowning out my brother’s voice. I squint. Ringing means my mind is on the fritz, either that or death’s coming.

But that’s impossible. It’s just me. Just crazy.

I stop walking. Maybe if I stand still nothing will happen, but even as I think this, I can tell that there’s something close by, watching us from the hallway.

Turning, I peer down the long, windowless corridor. After a few moments, the outline of a small child appears. I can make out a flower-print dress and tangled hair. Tucked under her arm is a ratty teddy bear, and her hands cover her mouth like she has a dirty secret.

I stop in my tracks. It’s the same little girl. The one I saw outside, by the woods. From this angle, she looks albino, her face and hair devoid of color. The longer I stare, the louder the ringing grows. She stands there, unmoving, staring right back at me.

“You got all that, sis?” Jackson asks. He’s been talking all this time, but I haven’t heard a word. The ringing swells. “Ange,” Jackson says. “Ange.”

I break my gaze from the albino girl and look at Jackson. When I glance back down the hall, she’s gone.

“The hell’s wrong with you? “ Jackson asks.

“Nothing,” I reply, inspecting the wooden walls for hidden rooms where the girl might be hiding.