Stepping into the kitchen, she made a face as she looked around. Even in this room, curtains were pulled over the window above the sink, turning what should’ve been a bright and open kitchen into an eerie space. The counters and cupboards were obscured in the gloom, which blackened the space underneath the small table. Even her small light somehow made things worse, illuminating just a small area, but leaving the rest of the room shrouded in shadows.

The beam of the flashlight settled on a narrow, closed door across the room, and she moved toward it. According to the floor plans Norah had found, that should lead to the stairs to the second level. She moved quickly, wanting to get out of the haunted kitchen as soon as possible, and her hip bumped against the edge of a metal chair, making it rattle as it slid a few inches across the scarred linoleum floor.

Molly froze, listening for any sound indicating that the residents of the house had heard, but the low rumble of John’s voice and Mother Tick’s higher-pitched responses didn’t change. There was no movement on the second floor—at least not that Molly could hear—so she finished crossing the kitchen, taking care not to bump into anything else.

The knob felt cold in her grip, and she shivered as she turned it. Don’t let this spooky, dark house freak you out, the practical part of her brain warned. Straightening her shoulders, she pulled the door open, revealing a narrow, steep flight of stairs that climbed into an even deeper darkness above.

What do these people have against natural light—or any light, for that matter? Molly wondered. She kept her flashlight low as she climbed, wincing at every squeak and crack of the steps under her weight. Reaching the top, she started to place her foot down, then froze at the faintest hint of pressure against her shin.

As she looked down, pointing the tiny flashlight at her feet, she saw the shine of a silver wire stretching across the top step about eight inches off the floor. Carefully stepping over the trip wire, she hoped that the slight tug hadn’t been enough to trigger whatever it was connected to. Her heart thundered in her chest at the close call, and she wanted more than anything to run back down the stairs, grab John, and leave this spooky, dark house and all of its booby traps behind. They could go home and take Warrant for a nice walk in the national forest behind her house before making dinner with her sisters, all of them happily mashed into the tiny kitchen together.

The only problem was that if she didn’t bring in Sonny Zarver, that house wouldn’t be hers for much longer.

Resolved, she crept forward down a short hallway. There were three doors, one on either side and the last one straight ahead. She paused to listen, hoping to get a hint as to which one Sonny was in, but there was only silence. Unable to hear John or Mother Tick anymore, she suddenly felt very alone. As she shifted, the board under her feet gave a soft creak, and she went still for a long moment, fully expecting one of the three doors to bang open, revealing a murderous Sonny intent on keeping his freedom. Nothing moved. It felt as if even the house was holding its breath.