But his words sounded, even to his own ears, far from convincing.

He had a dream that night.

He was at the funeral again, listening to the minister yelling on and on. His father was next to him, crying and crying. In front of them was the white coffin.

Then the lid of the coffin opened.

And out of it climbed the witch.

The autumn wind blew, hard and strong. The witch spread her arms out. Her black hair fanned out from her head, and the strips of her white clothing lifted, flapped, like wings. She rose up in the air, and she let out a caw, like a bird.

But there were words in the caw too.

“‘Behold! I tell you a miracle’!” she cawed. “A miracle! A miracle!”

Part Three

THE WITCH

Chapter 15

When Wunder arrived at school on Monday morning, Faye was standing at his locker. She didn’t say Good morning or How was your Sunday? or anything like that. Instead, she said, “We have to go to the DoorWay House. Today.”

“I don’t want to go,” Wunder said.

After waking up from his dream on the night of the break-in, Wunder hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. The crib-bar shadows had reached his face, covered his mouth and his eyes, crept up the sides of the wall next to him, and still he had not slept.

The next morning, his father had knocked on his door. “Time to get up, Wunder,” he had called. “And hurry—we’re going to be late for church.”

Wunder had gone to his door and opened it. “I’m not going,” he had said, before he had really thought about what it would mean to say this.

But once he’d said it, he hadn’t changed his mind, even though his father had been confused, then upset, then angry.

Finally, after his father had said very loudly, “We go together every week, and this week is no different. You have to go with me, and that’s that!” Wunder’s mother had come out of her room and into the hall where they were arguing.

She had looked exhausted, like she had on the soup night, but Wunder knew it was a good sign that she was coming out of her room. And he knew that she would understand, she would explain to his father that things had changed.

And she had. “If Wunder doesn’t want to go,” she had said, “then he doesn’t have to.”

But his father had said, “Yes, he does. Wunder isn’t allowed to give up on everything like you.”

He had started apologizing almost immediately, but Wunder’s mother had gone back into the room, shut the door, and locked it. Wunder’s father had stood there for a long time, trying to get her to come out again. But she hadn’t.

Finally, he had left. Alone.

And standing by his locker now at school, Wunder had realized that there was no reason to go to the DoorWay House, no need to keep asking questions. He had his answers.