‘It must be Jason. He’s been wanting to get me on my own for ages.’

Isobel and Bethany shook their heads in tandem at the mention of their big brother. ‘No, he hasn’t,’ said Isobel. ‘Jason’s gone to Dublin for the half-term.’

Their voices faded as they followed Angelica inside, their shadows dancing behind their flickering candles as they lit each one in turn. They turned to survey the grand entrance hall – a ghoulish museum to the mass murders of exactly twenty-five years ago. The furniture was decaying, the pipes leaking through the walls, and each doorway was framed with ragged cobwebs loaded with dust. Libby fought a shudder. The house may be dying, but it still carried a sense of something moving to and fro.

‘We should go,’ Jahmelia groaned, hugging herself. If her shoulders rose any higher, they would be touching her ears.

‘Bunch of wusses,’ Angelica muttered as she checked her watch. ‘It’s nearly time.’

She bent to take the last chunky candle from her carrier bag. ‘Think how cool we’ll be at school when we tell everyone—’

Her words were cut short by sudden, frantic flapping. A black cloud of bats exploded from the rafters and swooped past them before flitting out through the open door. A cacophony of screams erupted as the girls clung to each other. The screams turned to laughter, which dissolved into tears as the last bat flew out.

‘Oh my God, your faces,’ Angelica laughed, one hand on her chest.

‘Yeah … I think a little bit of pee came out!’ Libby laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. It was good to feel part of a group. To feel like she belonged.

Dipping her hand into the carrier bag, Libby pulled out some cards and handed them around with a pen. Each one of them scribbled their names, wincing as they pricked their finger with a needle and added a spot of blood. The temperature had dipped since they entered, and the last of Libby’s confidence began to evaporate. They had only just arrived but already, she felt a creeping sense of being watched. She looked beyond the cobwebs and the creaking floorboards. Shadows from the past were coming to life.

‘What do we do next?’ Bethany said nervously, as they followed Angelica back out to the front door. Her face was flushed, despite the cold.

Isobel’s gaze darted around as she knelt to place the candle at the doorstep, on top of the bloodstained cards with their names. She was the mirror image of her twin sister and seemed every bit as scared. ‘Quench your candles but leave the one on the step lit. Knock twenty-two times but time it so the last knock lands on the stroke of midnight. Then blow the last candle out.’ She delivered the instructions with confidence. The game was an urban legend. The details weren’t hard to find online.