“I guess you’ve given up on writing them,” Ebb continues. “It happens all the time; people give up on fanciful things as they get older. But for people like you, from a family like yours… If you push magic away in one place, it will find you in another. I think probably when you burned your stories”—he pauses, trying to think of how to explain—“you closed a door and opened a window. And that window is the sight.”

“The sight?” I whisper.

Ebb shakes his head, as if we are wasting time. “It’s how you can see me now, all of a sudden. You must have triggered your sight.”

I’m still trying to grasp what he’s saying, when Germ says nervously, “What about me? What triggered my sight?”

But Ebb only floats up the stairs, pausing in the upper hallway at the top, staring darkly down at us. He floats back and forth, as if pacing.

“It’s very important that you come,” he insists. “There are things I need to show you.”

I nod to Germ. As dour as the dead boy looks, I don’t think he wants to hurt us. We move toward the stairs, though slowly.

When we reach him at the top, he pivots and continues down the hall.

He leads us down the hallway and stops in front of the antique dresser tucked into a nook by a small, octagonal window looking out onto the yard. With pretty turquoise handles and lovingly carved inlays, the dresser has always seemed—like so many things—as if it belonged to someone I don’t know, instead of to my mom. Now Ebb looks down at the floor just in front of it, nervous, uncertain. He glances up at me.

Upstairs in the attic, I hear my mom’s bed creak. No footsteps, but it sounds like she’s stirring. We all wait silently. Finally, all settles again.

Ebb stares down at the floor, then at us, as if we’re supposed to know what to do.

“Um,” Germ says.

Ebb, exasperated, sighs and rolls his eyes. I’m beginning to notice he sighs a lot.

“You’ll need to move the dresser. I can’t exactly do it myself.” He pushes his arm into a wall and pulls it out again as if to demonstrate.

Haltingly, Germ and I sidle up beside each other, then gently lean into the dresser from the right side so that it slides to the left.

I turn my gaze again to the floor. There’s a gap between two of the boards, only noticeable if you are looking straight at it. I kneel slowly and tuck a fingernail into one of the tiny crevices and pull. To my amazement, the board comes up easily. My heart, already thrumming, begins to skip and flutter.