Helen looked tired, worried, and, all of a sudden, way older. There were dark circles under her bloodshot eyes and her skin was pale and pasty looking—Olive could see the blue traces of veins underneath.

They were in the house, putting up the trim around the last of the windows. Olive was holding the boards while Helen nailed them in place. Then she used a nail set to sink them, and Olive covered the holes with dabs of wood putty.

Nate had gone into town to pick up more caulk and primer. Olive was relieved he’d taken off because things were weird and awkward. Nate and Helen were barely speaking—just giving each other measurements and passing boards back and forth. Olive could tell they were really pissed off at each other. Maybe that was why Helen looked so worn out.

Olive imagined she didn’t look all that much better than Helen—she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. She’d tossed and turned in bed, thinking about her talk with Riley at breakfast and how frightened Riley had looked. About her promise to stop looking into things, to stay safe and leave things to Riley. And their plan to maybe go to the police.

When she did sleep, she dreamed it was her own hand ripping the necklace from her mother’s throat. Then choking her.

She woke up damp with sweat, heart thumping. She jumped out of bed, downed three cups of sweet, milky coffee, and skipped breakfast entirely—the idea of solid food turned her stomach. On her way to catch the school bus, she stopped by the hollow tree and thought about dumping the necklace back in there but found she just couldn’t part with it.

She’d come to Helen’s straight from school, not even heading home first to drop off her backpack. She didn’t want to be alone. Not even for a minute.

Olive looked at the stack of books on the kitchen counter: Ghosts and Hauntings; Witches in New England; A Guide to Haunted Vermont; Spells, Hexes, and Curses; A Witch’s Guide to Spell Casting. The one on top was called Communicating with the Spirit World.

She set down the tub of wood putty, reached up, touched the necklace under her shirt. Then she picked up Communicating with the Spirit World and started flipping through it, not really reading, just skimming. She came to a passage that made her stop. She felt goose bumps form on her forearms and a chill on the nape of her neck. She read it out loud, slowly: