I swirl around to see the man I saw last night, who is now standing on the landing on this side of the basement door. He grins at me, then lets out a loud, mad peal of laughter. “Danger now. So much danger now.” He laughs again. I flinch at each barking sound, but try to steady myself. His eyes glow like coals as he glares at me, full of hatred.

The dead boy floats up beside me and glowers at the man.

“Don’t worry about the Murderer,” he says. “He’s harmless.” But then he pauses, and appears to rethink his words, because he adds, “I mean, everybody does call him ‘the Murderer,’ and he does want to murder you, and he’s pretty territorial. But it’s not your fault.”

The boy reaches an arm toward me. I leap back and let out a small scream, but not before his arm has sliced right through me—with no effect, just the faintest feeling of a cool breeze running through my stomach. “See? He can’t touch you. None of us can.” He frowns, and glances at the man—the Murderer—again. “Still, don’t go into the basement at night. Some ghosts do sometimes figure out… alternatives.”

Germ and I are both too scared to respond. There are too many questions swirling in my head, and my heart is beating too hard for me to speak.

The other ghosts hover around us, staring at us intently. I try to steady my breath enough to settle on one question, the one that burns the most. “What are you doing here?” I manage to whisper. It sounds more like a croak.

The boy looks at me a long moment. “We’re always here. We’ve been here your whole life. I’m Ebb,” the boy says. He looks around the room, his mournful eyes wide, as if deciding something. “Well,” he finally says, resigned, “I guess you’d both better come with me.”

He begins moving toward the stairs, and casts a dark, strained look back at us. “If you could keep up, I’d appreciate it.”

Germ and I eye each other, bewildered.

Ebb pauses at the landing, then floats halfway through the banister toward us. “Night won’t last forever,” he says, “and we disappear at dawn.”

Germ looks to me, her eyes questioning if we should follow. I shake my head uncertainly.

“You couldn’t have always been here,” I make myself brave enough to say. “This is impossible.”

Ebb sighs, hovering impatiently.

“I was afraid of it happening when I watched you burn your stories.”

I give a small start. The thought of being watched the other night prickles my skin all over, makes me sick to my stomach.