“The five W’s,” Harlow said. “That’s like who, where, what, and, um, when? And—”

“Who, what, when, where, why, and how.”

“Right.” Harlow placed two fingers of her right hand on the planchette. “I’ll start. Come on.”

Stella eyed the board. “I’m good, thanks.”

“You’re not scared of a Ouija board,” Harlow said, clearly delighted to throw Stella’s earlier words back at her.

“I’m not scared. I’m self-aware enough to know there are some things you don’t mess with. Making a point isn’t worth potentially being incredibly and supernaturally wrong,” Stella said, anxiety breaking through the surface. “And this is the best damn Ouija board I’ve ever seen. Pretty sure this sucker wasn’t mass produced.”

“If you don’t play, we get disqualified and have to go home. What was the point in making all that fuss about your parents if they’re just going to pick you up anyway because you’re too scared?”

Stella said quietly, “I did not sign up to get traumatized.”

“You can’t be if you don’t let it.”

“You have no idea how trauma works, do you? You don’t get a choice.”

“I think you do. I think it’s mind over matter.”

A small voice inside Stella’s head whimpered Help. In the irrepressible spirit of not wanting to go home, and only for that reason, Stella slowly lifted her hand and copied Harlow’s placement.

“We have to move it in a circle a few times,” Harlow said, leading the way. “Are there any spirits in the room? We’d like to talk to you.”

Stella had never been so instantly stressed out in her life. As soon as Harlow finished speaking, fear slammed into her like a freight train. She could hear herself breathing, feel herself shaking. She believed in ghosts. Not just believed, but was afraid—actually, genuinely afraid. When did this happen? How?

Harlow asked again, “Are there any spirits in the room? We’d like to talk to you.”

The planchette tugged to the left. Harlow must have sensed what would happen—she clamped her free hand down over Stella’s wrist to keep her in place. “You can’t let go until we say goodbye. The rules said we can’t break the circle,” she whispered.

The planchette came to a stop over Yes.

“You go first,” Harlow instructed, annoyingly unbothered.

Stella asked, “Who are you?”

“That’s a terrible question.”

“I disagree.” If Stella had to do this, she wanted to at least know who the hell she was talking to, dead or alive. She refused to blink, watching as the planchette moved and paused on letters as it spelled out the answer.

M-E-R-C-Y

Harlow continued, “Remember, it’s not real. They’re probably using magnets to move it remotely once we’ve asked our question.”

“Probably.” Stella took a deep, rattling breath.

“What does the key look like?”

C-A-T-K-E-Y