Lou nodded. “It’s my dollhouse. I have to break it.”

“Can I at least help?”

Lou smiled. “Heck yes.”

Together, they leapt at the house. They tore at the turrets and kicked the walls in. Wood splintered, flying in all directions. The miniature furniture scattered into the shadows of the void.

They pounded and stomped and danced on the rubble as gray ash wafted up all around them.

After it was done, Jason and Lou grabbed each other’s hands, waiting and watching to see if the debris would move. Rebuild the nightmare. Without the light from within the house, all they could see by now was the pale streak that divided the void in both directions.

Jason noticed that Lou’s hand felt strange. Looking down, he saw it was only partially there. His own fingers showed through it. Lou’s eyes perked up as she glanced around, seeing a room that Jason could not.

“You’re leaving me?” he asked.

She tried to answer, but her voice was already gone. Lou smiled, and he understood.

After his sister disappeared, Jason looked around, expecting to find the walls of the storage room in the condo’s basement. They’d broken the dollhouse after all. But all he saw was the shadow world. The endless dark. The void.

Vague shapes were moving through it.

Some shapes were tall and wide. Others were squat and long. Some made chittering noises. Other sounds were like heavy chains dragging across the ground. There were hard clacks and soft whispers.

The shadow creature’s brethren were not pleased with what he and Lou had done to it.

“Dad?” Jason called out, not knowing which way to turn. He hadn’t gone through all this only to become some monster’s meal. “Dad! Where are you?”

The shapes circled Jason as if he were at the center of their shrinking target.

Jason choked and then tried to call to his dad again, but his voice cracked and crumbled.

A hand clapped the back of his neck.

His father spun Jason around. His eyes were big and worried. “What are you doing down here, buddy? Why weren’t you answering me?”

Jason glanced around. “I … I …” He was standing among the familiar stacks of cardboard boxes, his father staring down at him. The monsters were gone. The cinder block walls had reappeared. A few feet away sat the remains of the dollhouse, jagged pieces of wood sprawled out across the floor. They looked like teeth.

Jason fell into his father’s arms, exhausted. He had no vocabulary to explain what he was feeling. His father didn’t ask again, but held him close and rubbed at his back, calming his sobs. “Everything will turn out all right, son,” he whispered.

Upstairs, a phone was ringing. It took Jason several seconds to recognize the sound. His father squeezed his shoulder and then ran to catch it before it went to voice mail.