“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the device in his other hand.

“This is an EMF detector.” Lucas held up the device with the colored lights. “That stands for ‘electromagnetic fields.’ I was just seeing if there were any readings in here.”

Charlie pointed to the stack of boxes in the corner near the window. “All my books are in there.”

Lucas laughed and obligingly looked. But his smile fell when he spotted something on one of the window’s panes—a large leaf plastered to the glass.

Er. A large leaf with legs.

The moth, one of the giant skull-decorated variety we kept running into, inched up the pane, moving toward the jamb.

“We’ve seen those everywhere,” I said. “I’m guessing they’re a local breed?”

Lucas didn’t answer, but went to the window, dropping his EMF detector onto Charlie’s bed. Charlie wasted no time in going for the device, which she scoured for buttons. Lucas, in the meantime, raised the window with strong arms, taking care not to scare off the insect.

To my horror, he looped an arm outside—and grabbed the thing.

Adding to my unease, he brought the creature inside, cupping his other hand around it to create a makeshift cage.

“Oh my God,” I whispered the instant the insect began to emit a high-pitched squeak-screech. “Is it really making that sound?”

Lucas didn’t answer. Instead, he peered into the gap between his two hands.

Curious, Charlie dropped the EMF detector back onto the bed and went to Lucas’s side. She teetered on her toes, trying to see.

Lucas, in a daze, crouched again to let her look, though his focus on the creature remained unwavering.

“You said you’ve seen more of these?” he asked, his face graying before my eyes.

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “Why? They’re not dangerous, are they?”

“They’re not indigenous,” replied Lucas.

“You mean to this area.”

“I mean to the United States.” He stood quickly when Charlie’s curious fingers got too close, and promptly chucked the thing out the window.

While it flittered away, vanishing into the deepening dusk, Lucas shut the sash and flicked the latch.

“Charlie,” said Lucas, his attention returning to my sister. “Stephanie says that you don’t like to sleep in your room and that your closet bothers you. Can you tell me why?”

At once, Charlie’s demeanor changed, her carefree smile failing, those small brows coming together. I hated to see the peace drained out of her like that. But I couldn’t be mad at Lucas. He hadn’t said anything scary—hadn’t mentioned anything at all about Zedok. He’d only asked her a question. Seemed I was the one to blame here. Because, until now, I’d been all too quick to dismiss Charlie’s claims about her monster. All because it wasn’t something that fit into my paradigm. In that moment, though, I found myself fighting off the awful thought that Mom would have listened to her.

“Charlie,” Lucas prompted again as Charlie glanced back in the direction of the door. “Is there something the matter?”