Chapters (48)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Books by Erin Jade Lange
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
I smoothed out the flyer I’d just secured to a power pole, halfway between Hope High and All Hours. We were papering the town with the updated Halloween Hoopla hours, the new times popping off the page in giant orange lettering. My hand slid over the awards for best floats and costumes and landed on the bottom line of text:
Biggest Hoopla in history—no more, no less.
Sophia sailed out the front door of the hardware store, where she had just unloaded a stack of flyers and fell into step with me and Sydney as we made our way to the next wooden pole to cover the old flyer with the new one.
Kachunk. Kachunk. Kachunk.
We crossed the street to plaster flyers on the boarded-up windows of the abandoned movie theater.
“This town is so pathetic,” Sydney said, gesturing up at the empty marquee. “Look at this place. It’s totally stuck in time.”
Sophia sighed. “We definitely suffer from arrested development.”
I tried to peek between the boards to see the theater lobby, but it was too dark inside. As I pulled back, I noticed a letter etched on the glass of the shuttered ticket window. I traced the letter with my finger, a capital M with swooping script. I recognized that particular M, and even though whatever came after it was hidden behind a wood panel, I knew the full word without a doubt.
Morgana.
No wonder it had never reopened. The current owners had no use for it.
I shook my head, disappointed. The least the Elders could have done is let the town have a movie theater. It seemed spiteful to keep it empty for no reason. It’s not like this tiny theater was going to draw hordes of people from out of town.
I comforted myself with the thought that after the migration, the people of Nowhere would all have enough cash in their bank accounts to open their own movie theaters. Their memories would tell them the money came from insurance or government payouts, due to the loss of their property to flood. The logical part of their brain that could deduce the payouts were far too big to make sense would be muted. Memory fades were incredibly impressive when done well.
Sophia stapled a flyer to the last empty window board. “If these new hours help us top our fundraising goal, we’ll have to start thinking about what to do with the excess.”
“The band needs new uniforms,” Sydney said as we continued down the street.
She affixed a flyer to the next pole.
Kachunk. Kachunk. Kachunk.
“Or maybe the theater could use a fund for sets and props,” Sophia said. “I’ll ask Poe.”
“What’s going on with him and Reg, by the way?” Sydney asked me.