Jay stops looking at Aaron just long enough to hug Jane and shake Chris’s hand, and I feel sick.

Nia clears her throat, and I think she’s about to explode, but I remember Jane’s face in the woods and how easily she took our brother.

“Not yet,” I whisper, and Nia stares at me but doesn’t move.

Amy looks helpless, and I want to take her with us. She doesn’t follow the others back into their house. She stands in silence, and I know what she wants to say because we all do.

“Amy,” her mum says, “come on.”

If you didn’t know better, it would sound caring. Before she closes the door, Jane turns and waves. Whatever she’s done to Logan and Amy and Chris to make sure they keep playing her horrible game, she thinks she’s done it to us too.

Mum crouches next to Aaron and says, “You really scared us. Don’t ever run off again, okay?”

Aaron nods, then looks serious because his dad is crying, and Nia and I know exactly what Jane has done.

We won’t tell anyone, because, next time, we won’t get him back.

85

I don’t want to live here anymore.

There are stick figures carved inside my wardrobe and pleas behind the paint and holes in a door we might never replace.

This place is a warning. It’s a scary story you tell to make kids behave. And it’s our life.

My curtains are closed, because I can’t look at Amy’s house either. Everything is a reminder of a truth I can’t tell. If I do, there’s no guarantee the police will do their job before Jane keeps her promise.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the darkness, and then I go downstairs and check everything over and over again until I want to scream at myself to stop.

But I can’t, because my doubt swallows my certainty the moment I step away from a door or a window. The voice that tells me the house will flood if I don’t check every tap or that there’ll be an electrical fire if I don’t turn off every socket is louder than it’s been for years. And it’s all because of Jane.

“Are you okay?”

The voice makes me jump, and, when I turn, Nia is there. I feel both embarrassed and relieved. I don’t want her to see my rituals, but I’m scared I’ll be doing them all night without a distraction.

“Not really,” I say, and Nia points to the chair next to hers. The moon is low and full tonight, and its glow fills the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about the holes,” Nia says. “If I’m honest, I didn’t want to believe you…even when we saw the words on the wall.”