Jason sensed that there were other reasons hidden inside his father’s first reason: It might be good for your sister to get away from the dollhouse in the basement. Also: It might be good for all of us to have some time apart.

CHAPTER 2

LOU WAS AFRAID to fall asleep on the plane, but the engines whirred in her ears and she caught herself nodding off several times. In the few moments of creeping unconsciousness, she could hear screaming and creaking doors and footsteps coming up quickly behind her … echoes of the familiar nightmare that had woken her so many nights over the last month.

Then the plane was braking hard, throwing her body forward, the lap belt catching her before she could smash into the seat in front of her. Outside, past all the roads and fields, a dense line of foliage revealed land that was almost totally flat. Quite a difference from the rolling hills and mountains around the Bay Area.

Mom leaned over and whispered in her ear, “We made it, honey. Safe and sound.”

The words safe and sound made Lou think of her cousin, and for a second, she felt nauseated, knowing that Marcus might be neither of those things.

When they got to the Gellers’ house, Aunt Paige pulled Lou’s mom into a long hug. “We’re so glad you’re here!” she said, her voice cracking a little. “The police have been in the house all morning, and we don’t know what to do. What could have happened?”

Marcus’s oldest brother chimed in. “The little freak is probably just hiding out somewhere, practicing his cello.”

Aunt Paige’s expression hardened, and she turned to Lou. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “It means a whole lot. Ethan, show your cousin up to Marcus’s room.”

Late daylight streamed through gauzy curtains upstairs. Lou plopped her suitcase on the floor and stared around. It felt strange to be in here when Marcus was not. A blue button-down shirt hung on the back of his desk chair, and colored pencils were scattered across the surface of the desk. Several keys on the electric piano in the corner of the room appeared to be smudged with remnants of purple Popsicle melt. A stack of books sat crookedly on the bedside table—The House with a Clock in Its Walls by John Bellairs, Coraline by Neil Gaiman, 50 Simple Magic Tricks to Entertain Your Friends and Family, and a dog-eared biography of a jazz musician named Dave Brubeck.

Lou sat on the bed and cracked the book about magic tricks. One page in the center stuck as she flipped through it. Someone had placed a piece of folded paper inside, and Lou opened it. The email was addressed to Aunt Paige.

Dear Mrs. Geller,