An edge of uneasiness pricked at Vera’s gut. Interacting with whatever was inside his mother was terrifying, but leaving it offerings or asking it for favors felt like DMing a serial killer. “Kids are really susceptible. They trust more. They’re fooled more. You’ve got to keep her away.”

“I will. I’m trying.”

“I know.” Vera nodded once. “How about you? How are you doing?”

He fiddled with the curved brim of his hat, hiding his eyes, but she could see the muscles flex in his jaw. “How do you think?” He gestured to the footpath. “Let’s walk.”

Vera followed him past the splintered bench where they had sat the afternoon he came to meet her. It oddly felt like weeks ago, not days.

Maxwell followed her stare. “I guess you believe me now,” he joked, remembering their interaction.

“I’m sorry I was so tough before. It’s not that I didn’t believe you…”

“No, I get it. Anything makes more sense than what’s actually going on.” He strolled so close his fingers brushed the back of her hand, and she wondered briefly if he’d take it.

They neared the footbridge arching over the creek and traipsed to the center. Maxwell put both hands on the railing, carved from twisted natural branches, resting his full weight like he needed the support to stand. She pressed beside him, gazing at the rushing water. The sounds of a soccer game rose from behind the tree line—a whistle blowing, a crowd cheering. Farther down the creek, classmates lounged on the banks of Devil’s Pool, where a taller stone bridge soared across the widest and deepest part of the stream. A figure in a cherry-red bikini dropped from the apex, plummeting to the rippling surface as her squeal traveled on a breeze that smelled of fresh-cut grass.

“You know, I’ve never swum in the creek,” Vera admitted, watching her classmates bathe in the blistering sun.

“Seriously?” He side-eyed her.

“It always felt like something you needed to be invited to. I mean, I know it’s a public place, but…” She gestured to the group, small as insects from where they stood, but unified as a swarm. “Everyone knows each other.”

“We know you too. You go to school with us.”

“Did you ever consider talking to me before this?” They both knew the answer.

“Maybe I should have.” His voice was low. “You spoke to your parents?”

“Yeah.” Vera nodded.

She told him about the conversation, which unfortunately included very little advice about what they should do, other than get “the kids” out of there and wait.

“Well, when do they get back?”

“In a week. Maybe.”

He sighed like that wasn’t fast enough. She agreed.

“What about a priest?” he asked. “Don’t they do exorcisms?” He said the word like it was ludicrous. It was, to most people.

“They said it’s extremely hard to get approval from the church. It’s one of the reasons they have jobs. The church hopes they can debunk most of the claims.”