But there were more questions, many more. He took a deep breath, steeled his heart, and asked, “Did you order that memorial stone—the one in the cemetery?”

“I did,” the witch said. “I did.”

“Why?”

The witch kept rocking. “I sit here on this porch, and what is just beyond the trees?” She gestured ahead with one hand, into the darkness. “A cemetery. For many reasons—many, many reasons—death is on my mind. I read the paper every day—”

“You read the obituaries every day,” Faye corrected her. “We saw them on your kitchen table.”

“I do,” the witch agreed. “I do. I do. And there is so much death in the world. Every day, every day, every day. And so many who believe they have lost the ones they love forever. I cannot change the world. But this town, perhaps that is in my power to change.” She leaned forward in the chair and her face caught the light of the moon above. She was staring right at Wunder. “The memorial stone is only the beginning of what I want to do, what I want your help to do.”

“But why did you make it from Milagros?” Wunder asked. “Why did you write it that way?”

“Ah,” the witch said. “You see, my name is Milagros.”

She leaned back. The rocking chair began to move again, back and forth, the sound of its rails against the uneven porch planks the only noise.

Then Faye let out a scream. Davy screamed too.

“You’re Milagros? That’s your name?” Faye pointed a white-gloved finger at the witch. “Who are you? Who are you really?”

The witch sighed a long deep sigh. “That will be hard to understand. So many things in this life and after are difficult to understand. I do not know why it has to be so.” She rose from the chair. “But come inside. I will explain as best I can.”

“Really don’t drink a single thing,” Faye hissed as the witch opened the door. “What if she stole your sister’s soul and she wants to steal yours? What if she’s a demon? Do you have your amulet? I have mine.”

“Who’s stealing souls?” Davy whispered frantically. “And what about omelets? What’s going on?”

Wunder didn’t have his amulet, but he didn’t care. He had done it—he had asked his questions at last. Whatever price he had to pay for the answers, it would be worth it.

He climbed up the porch steps and crossed to the waiting pitch-black of the open door.

He followed Milagros inside.

Chapter 31

As soon as Wunder stepped over the threshold of the DoorWay House, the stone of his heart grew not just warm but hot, began not just to shiver, but to crack.

Like it wasn’t a stone at all. Like there was something inside that wanted to come out.

The witch carried a single candlestick as she led them through the house. The flame illumined only the space right around her. Outside of its glow, it was dark, dark, darker than dark. Wunder followed behind her, watching as the wall lit up one piece at a time, the bright white spirals seeming to blossom out of nothingness. He listened to the witch’s footsteps, which seemed strangely slow, labored, not like the quick, graceful movements he was used to from her.