Hope lit up in the girl’s eyes.

“What I was going to say was, even if I did want to do this absolutely ridiculous and totally deniable thing you want me to do, I’m not sure I could do it right now.”

Nixie’s face dropped. “What are you talking about?”

I scratched my temple. “You see, I’ve been going through some personal issues, and you noticed it earlier when I was trying to unlock the door? Not much was happening.”

“So, what are you saying? You’re broken?”

“Hypothetically speaking, yes. Kind of. It’s an on-and-off thing.”

“Seriously? You’re telling me I finally get this close to seeing some magic.” She pinched her fingers in the air. “And my witch is a dud?”

I blinked. Dud seemed a little harsh.

She held the key out to me.

I looked at her outstretched hand. “Wait. What are you doing?”

“Just take it,” she said, jerking it around.

“Really?”

“Just drop it by the store when you’re done. Who knows? Maybe you will find something to prove your aunt’s innocence, and she’ll show me some magic. Now, Nora, there’s a real witch.”

I scoffed a little but took the key just the same. “Thank you, Nixie.”

“Whatever.” She turned and trotted down the front steps of the house.

“Really,” I called out after her. “I won’t forget this.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” She kept walking across the dark lawn. “And good luck in there. Watch out for ghosts.”

I clutched the key in my hand and smiled. “Always.”

• • •

Minutes later, I was inside Graves House with the door shut behind me.

I swept the flashlight around the front hall. The interior of the home was clean enough. It wasn’t as though there were any cobwebs hanging from the ceiling or dust sheets thrown over furniture, but there was a very sad feel to the place. The furnishings all looked decades old and the walls and floors were dull from lack of maintenance. It was clear, no one had thought of this house as a home in a very long time.

There was something else missing, too. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but then it came to me. It wasn’t just the house that had a feeling of neglect, there was no indication of care here at all. No family photos. No sign of a pet. There weren’t even any plants.

Suddenly, a prickle ran over my neck. I couldn’t be sure, but I was willing to bet Constance was with me again.

Time to get to it.

Initially I had been planning to go directly to the staircase, but there was one thing I needed to check first. I crept down the main hallway, passing just by the kitchen, headed for the back of the house, my footfalls echoing much too loudly for my liking. When I reached the doors that led to the backyard, I was surprised to find them closed off with two-by-fours, but the oak board and batten wall beside them was still in perfect condition. I could have been looking at the walls of Ivywood Hollow. And the similarities didn’t end there. Even though the paneled interior walls appeared flush with that of the outside, through some architectural wizardry, I knew that wasn’t quite the case. Thankfully, though, I didn’t have to search for the hidden panel to prove my hunch. There was no need. The light from my torch had found a small brass doorknob. I pulled the camouflaged section of the wall open to reveal a narrow staircase, identical to the one in my family’s home.