Page 3

“Marlie, no,” Kara whispered, feeling the temperature drop with each step.
“We don’t have a choice!” Marlie snapped, her voice still hushed as they reached the third floor.
Rather than snap on a light, she pulled a small flashlight from her pocket and switched it on, its thin beam sliding over draped furniture and boxes, forgotten lamps and stacks of books, open bags of unused clothes. Her family used the extra space for storage, though according to Mama it had once been servants’ quarters. “I wish,” Mama had added, lighting a cigarette as she warned all of her “patchwork family” that the area was forbidden, deemed unsafe. “Don’t go up there, ever. You’re asking for serious grounding if you do. Hear me? Serious.”
Her threat hadn’t stuck, of course.
Of course they’d all sneaked up here and explored.
Though the area was declared off-limits, her brothers were always climbing up here, and Kara had poked around the rabbit warren of connected rooms often enough to know her way around. But tonight, in the darkness, the frigid rooms appeared sinister and evil, the closed doors standing like sentinels guarding the narrow corridor.
Bong!
“Where’s Mama?” she asked again, fighting panic.
Marlie glanced at her and shook her head. She placed a finger to her lips, reminding Kara of the need for silence, then pulled her anxiously along the bare floor of the third story.
This was wrong.
Really wrong.
At the far end of the hallway was another staircase, much narrower and close. Cramped. It wound downward and ended up in the kitchen. For a fleeting second, Kara thought they were going down the back way, which seemed stupid since they’d just ascended, but Marlie had other plans. She stopped just before they reached steps, at the small cupboard-like entrance to the attic.
Kara’s bad feeling got worse. “What are you do—?”
Marlie pulled a key from the front pocket of her jeans and slipped it into the lock. A second later, the attic door creaked open. “Come on.”
Kara drew back and shook her head. “I don’t want to.” Marlie surely wouldn’t—
“Don’t care.” Forcefully, Marlie pulled her through the tight doorway and yanked the door shut behind them.
“What the hell is this?”
“Don’t swear.”
“But—”
“Look. I’m saving you. Us.” A loud click sounded as she flipped the old switch. Nothing happened.
“Shit,” Marlie muttered as they stood in the darkness.
“Don’t swear,” Kara threw back. “And saving us from what?”
“Shhh. Quiet. You don’t want to know.”
“Yes! Yes, I do! Tell me!”
“Look, it’s . . . complicated.” Marlie hesitated.
“And scary.”
“Yes, and really scary.” She clicked on her flashlight again so that they could see the stairs winding upward. The steps were steep and barely wide enough for Kara’s foot, a rickety old staircase winding to the garret under the eaves. It was freezing in the tight space and dark as pitch.
“I’m not going up there.”
“Of course you are. Come on.”
This was bad.