Ripley took a step back. He transferred a snowball from one hand to the other, but he didn’t throw it. “You see my dog, you let me know.”

“I’ll let you know, all right.”

Keeping my arm around Muncie, I helped her to the road, guiding her to the tire tracks. Walking on the packed snow made easier going.

Gradually Muncie straightened up.

“Why’d you throw a snowball at him, Munce?”

“I didn’t. I was aiming at you.”

“Muncie, you’ve got lousy aim.”

“You ducked! I thought if we ignored him, if we were busy with each other, he’d go away—”

Caleb had run ahead, almost to the barn, but Muncie stopped. I turned to look at her. She was staring at my house.

The sun had set and shadows gathered on the trampled snow. Gran had switched on the houselights, inside and out. A rosy glow filled the late afternoon. At this angle Ezra’s room showed just beyond the shed.

And the curtain to Ezra’s room stood open.

I had hoped for this, and yet a feeling of dread knotted inside me.

Two figures filled the tall bedroom window, easily seen in the growing darkness. While his mother hovered beside him, Ezra gazed out the window, a mask covering his nose and mouth.

“Who are they?” Muncie asked.

I looked back over my shoulder toward Ripley’s property. No sign of him. At least Ripley hadn’t seen them.

I turned back as the curtain slid shut.

Muncie shivered beside me. “Who were they?”

“Come on,” I said. “You’re cold. I’ll walk you home.”

“You’re not going to tell me who they were, are you?” Muncie said, stomping the snow off her boots in her mudroom. “Are you?”

The weight of my wet snow clothes dragged at me.

“Well, until you have something to say to me,” Muncie said, fury prickling her voice, “I don’t have anything to say to you, either.”

I shivered as I crunched back down the road toward home. The shadow of woods and hills darkened my path. Partly I shivered with nervousness, that Muncie had seen Ezra. I shivered with excitement, too, seeing him like that myself.

Gran had pale coffee waiting on the kitchen table for me.

“I saw Ezra at the window.”

Gran nodded.

“I’ll go down to his room as soon as I change,” I said, kicking off my wet clothes and tearing up to my room.

My legs ached, my feet stung, my stomach nearly shriveled with hunger, and I had to pee. I hurriedly stripped down and pulled on some dry clothes. I glanced at my stinging face in the mirror.

“Nyle?” Gran called.

Gran stood at the bottom of the steps, her spotted hand resting on the door frame. She looked up toward me, her hair mashed under her net.

“I’ll be right there,” I called. Back at the mirror, I tried brushing the static out of my hair—making it worse.

Ezra wouldn’t die. Even he believed it now. Really believed it. He’d opened the curtain.