“Hurry!” Jonah says, springing to his feet. He, Prince, and I race for the door.

I reach for the doorknob.

But the door opens.

I gasp.

A woman is standing in the doorway. She’s about my mom’s age, maybe a little younger, and has pretty blond hair in loose waves to her shoulders. Her eyes are blue and almost the same color as her dress, which has a white lace hem. She has a big smile on her freckled face and a basket in her arms. She looks like she’s selling something.

“Hello,” she singsongs. “I smell children! Are there children in here?”

“Oh, um, hi,” I say. “We don’t live here. We were just leaving.”

“Oh, I know you don’t live here,” she says sweetly. “I live here. You’re in my house.”

I take a step back.

Oh. No.

“Your house?” I ask weakly.

Prince barks, as if to say DANGER, DANGER!

“Yup!” the woman says, still smiling.

This is bad. Really, really bad. If this is her house … then she’s the witch!

We’re in her house, and she’s the witch!

We’ve got to get out of here.

“We’re sorry for trespassing,” I say nervously, grabbing Jonah’s arm. “We’ll just be on our way …”

“No,” she says, the horrible smile still plastered on her face. “You snuck into my house. You ate my candy.”

“How do you know we ate your candy?” I ask.

“I can smell my strawberry shortcake on your breath!” she says with a laugh.

Oops. I lick my lips. Still good, though.

She squints at us. And she’s not smiling anymore.

“Have a seat,” she says coldly. “It’s almost time for dinner.”

I swallow, hard. I have a bad feeling about what’s on the menu.

Us.

“No, thanks,” I say, my voice shaking.

“That came out wrong,” the witch says more softly, making her tone sweet again. “It’s dinnertime. Please stay. You can have all the candy you want.”

“What kind of candy?” Jonah says.

The witch smiles, revealing straight white teeth. “All kinds,” she tells him. “And I’m all about sharing. My name is Patty, by the way.”

“As in Peppermint Patty?” Jonah asks.

“Exactly.”

“Patty,” I say, “we appreciate your offer to stay for dinner, but we have to get home.” I force a smile. “Come on, Jonah.”

We have to get out of here. Now.

“You go to her left,” I whisper to Jonah. “I’ll go to her right. Go, go, go!”

We both start to run. I make it outside, but the witch grabs Jonah.

Oh, no!

Jonah!

Prince howls.

“No!” I cry. “Let my brother go.”

“Let him go?” the witch repeats. “Why would I do that? He smells delicious. He’ll be perfect for a stew.”

Jonah’s eyes widen. “I don’t want to be a stew! I don’t even like stew! The only time I liked it even a little bit was when Snow White made it … and I definitely wasn’t one of the ingredients!”

Patty steps outside toward me. With one hand gripping Jonah, she grabs me with her other hand.