I run to the door, fumbling for the knob, nails scratching against the grain of the wood. But it’s too late. I pound on the door, I try to yank it open, but the door only bends slightly. They’ve locked it somehow, secured it shut to keep the witch in her cage.

“No!” I shout, pulling again on the knob. But it won’t budge. Shit.

I press my ear to the wood of the door, listening to see if they’re still there. But then I hear the clomping of footsteps moving away, back down the hall.

“Wait!” I scream against the door. “Please!” But there’s only silence.

And the dark of the room.

I turn and lean against the door, pressing my head back. I think of what Mr. Perkins told me, how more miners died at the hands of one another than in the cruel dark of the forest.

It’s the hearts of men we should fear most.

But they can’t keep me in here. Not for long.

The camp counselors will discover the boys have snuck out from their cabins. They will hear the music thudding from across the lake. They will come to investigate. Search the house. They will let me out.

But what if the counselors don’t come? What if Suzy was right and they no longer care what the boys do, no longer care if they sneak away, as long as they’re back in their bunks by sunrise?

If I’m left here, locked inside, how long until they come back to let me out?

“Hey!” I call, feeling desperate again. I pound my fists against the door. Bang. Bang. Bang. Maybe one of the other boys will hear me, come let me out. Though I doubt they can even hear my shouts over the music. Or that they’d even care.

Drowned, I think again.

Max drowned in the lake, sank to the bottomless bottom, maybe froze to death before the water even had time to fill his lungs.

Then where is his body? Where is it hidden?

I’m missing something.

Some great big part of it doesn’t make sense.

I breathe in slowly. I stay calm. Calm, calm, calm.

I think I hear a voice.

“Nora.”

I whip around to face the door. “Hello?” I ask against the crack in the doorframe.

“Are you okay?” It’s Suzy.

“No,” I say back. “You have to let me out.”

I think I can hear her breathing. The soft inhale of her throat, the wobbly exhale against the grain of the wood. “I can’t,” she says after a moment.

“Why not?” I feel the pinch in my heart growing tighter.

“They’ll lock me up too, if I help you.…” Her voice trails away, like she’s looking down the hallway, listening for anyone approaching. “They’re really paranoid. Rhett thinks they’re all going to jail.”