Greg had been evasive about Lily’s parents, and I hadn’t pressed much. I’d assumed it had been a bad situation—abuse or drugs. It hadn’t mattered to me then—I’d just wanted her. But what if Lily’s mom hadn’t died “a few years ago” like Greg had said on campus? What if she’d already been dead when I’d adopted Lily?

My heart was pounding. I felt like I’d shrunk to doll size and someone above was pulling the strings, manipulating me just for the fun of seeing what could happen.

Let’s fit her here, in this house.

Let’s give her this—and this. And then take it away.

Take it all away.

“Lily?” I hadn’t seen her since last night. I jogged up to her bedroom. She wasn’t there. Her bed was unmade, sheets hanging half off and slumping to the floor. Ellen’s sleeping bag had been rolled up and pushed to the corner, but the girls’ costumes that had been hanging on the closet door were gone.

I sent her a text. Where are you? Don’t forget about babysitting tonight!

The Ouija box was shoved partly under the bed. I picked it up to put it in Ellen’s bag so she wouldn’t forget it, and the board fell out. It was the generic Hasbro version, but those thick black block letters and numbers still gave me the shivers.

If my mother was here, she’d snatch it out of my hand. Furious. Make a bargain with the devil, Theresa Ann, and you’ll lose your soul. Is that what you want?

And yet, I found myself sitting on the floor before the board, resting my index and middle fingers on the planchette. I closed my eyes.

Waited.

Imagining Lily and Ellen doing this very thing.

Imagining it moving, swirling, spelling out a message.

Who’s there? Lily, whispering. Talk to us.

D-A-P-H-N-E

What do you want to tell us?

I opened my eyes. The planchette was still in the same spot.

As I tossed it back in the box, the board skidded against the instruction booklet, and a scrap of paper underneath peeked out.

Lily’s handwriting, tall and slim letters in a teal sparkly marker:

DIED

BRIDGE.

And then, in the corner of the page, diagonal, was written largest of all:

WOW

I’d told her not to play the stupid game. She hadn’t listened, same as usual these days.

My phone buzzed. I stood, pocketed the paper. It was Greg.

See you there in 10?

Slate-gray sky. Barely any leaves left on the trees.

Ivy Woods was different now than it had been in the summer when we’d first moved here, when it had been bright and sunny. Even in August, with the high humidity swelling the door frames and breeding insects, it had felt full of promise.

Now everything seemed cold. Dark. Dead.