Daniel stared at his wife. It wasn’t supposed to work this way, it wasn’t supposed to be this easy. In books and movies, things worked out like this, but in real life it was supposed to be tougher. No one believed in ghosts and demons and the supernatural, and they didn’t just accept someone’s word on something like that. He tried to imagine what he would do, how he would react if Margot came to him with some wild story about seeing a UFO or something. He wasn’t sure he’d buy into it or even if he’d automatically be on her side. He’d probably agree with her for love’s sake, but he’d figure out some way to test her—or some way for her to get help. He doubted that he would completely change his worldview and suddenly believe in things he had never believed in before merely on the word of someone else.

Even if that other person was Margot.

He understood for the first time how truly lucky he was to have this woman for his wife.

“It’s in Maine,” he said. “The town’s called Matty Groves and I’m not even sure exactly where it is, but I know it’s probably a day’s drive from here. I know I shouldn’t—”

She put a firm arm on his, looked into his eyes.

“Go,” she told him.

It was indeed almost a day’s drive, and Daniel reached Matty Groves just as the sun was setting. He should’ve left earlier—he’d set the alarm for five this morning—but he hadn’t wanted to part from Margot and Tony, and he’d ended up staying through breakfast.

He was filled with the absurd conviction that this was the last time he’d ever see them.

Although maybe, he thought as he approached the house, the idea wasn’t so absurd.

Against its cheerful forested backdrop, the three-storied building looked even gloomier and more gothic, like a stereotypical haunted mansion. Its slatted wooden walls were a dark gray; the trim, door, and shutters black. Even the glass in the windows seemed dusky, although that may just have been a trick of the dying light. It was an imposing structure, with some of the same off-putting air of impenetrability as a medieval fortress or cathedral, and Daniel stood in front of it, goose bumps on his arms. He had not seen the house since he and his father had fled, and had managed until now to block out all memory of it entirely, but once again he was here, and it was as though the house had been waiting for his return.

So it could punish him.

That was ridiculous.