A wind kicked up around me, strong enough to stir some of the papers on the ground surrounding the house. Wind. Air. My feet began carrying me back to the gate before I was even aware that I’d ordered them to do that. By the time I reached the side entrance and squatted behind one of the two columns flanking the gate to hide myself from approaching drivers, the wind had died down, and the afternoon had gone completely silent.

Eerily silent.

Deadly silent.

I hadn’t been paying particular attention to the soundscape of the neighborhood until it was suddenly gone. A dog had been barking in the distance, but it had stopped. I was sure that occasional cars had been driving down the next street over, and that I’d subconsciously been listening to traffic speed past on the main road beyond the gate. There had been birds, too—not many, but chirping. Now? Nothing. It suddenly felt like I was the last living creature on Earth. I couldn’t remember having been this uncomfortable during the day before. The sky overhead was blue, and a handful of cheerful clouds floated past, but there was an electric charge in the air—just like there had been after school the day Olivia died—as if a storm was coming.

Slowly, I became aware that I wasn’t alone. Something was watching me, waiting for me to make a move.

I felt a strong urge to turn my head and look back at the Portnoys’ damaged house. But something deep inside of me refused to let me turn my head. I slid the photo I was holding into the back pocket of my jeans, figuring there was a reason it had literally crossed my path that day. The creaking of the gate as it rose distracted me, and a vehicle from a private security firm passed through at a slow speed, so I inched around the column to remain out of view before making a run for it.

I ducked beneath the gate and took off as fast as I could, not caring much if the security officer who’d just driven past me could see me in his rearview. I ran in the direction of the grocery store, the brick in my tote bag slamming into my hip with every step, and I paused on the corner of Glenn’s street because my lungs felt like they were on fire. As I doubled over to catch my breath, I debated whether or not I should stop by Glenn’s house to check in on Trey. There was no good reason why I should do that, I knew. There was a chance that one of Glenn’s neighbors would see me, or Trey, and that would be the worst scenario possible. But still… the urge to walk in that direction was powerful.

I thought of how confused and distracted I’d become the day that Trey and I had chased Violet through Willow High School to grab her locket. This was a similar sort of feeling, and despite acknowledging that my thoughts were probably being manipulated, I remained frozen on the sidewalk even after catching my breath, staring down Glenn’s street toward his house. However, when I pressed the gris-gris I wore around my neck between my thumb and the knuckle of my index finger, I suddenly—almost magically—had the strength to turn away and continue to the grocery store.