We peered around the corner of the next building, saw that open expanse, heard voices coming, and knew we’d never make it.

“Now what?” Tori said.

I didn’t answer.

“Come on!” she whispered. “What’s the plan?”

I wanted to grab her and shake her and tell her there was no plan. I couldn’t even wrap my head around the concept. My aunt might be dead. Dead. That’s all I could think about.

“Chloe!” she whispered. “Hurry! What are we going to do?”

I longed to tell her to leave me alone. Come up with her own plan. Then I saw her eyes, bright with fear fast turning into panic, and the words died in my throat.

She’d just learned Liz was dead. She’d seen my aunt possibly killed by her mother. Neither of us was in any shape to think, but one of us had to.

“Your aunt said the Edison Group won’t come close to the front,” she said. “If we run for it—”

“They’ll make an exception. Or find a way to cut us off. But…” I looked around. My gaze stopped on the huge building dominating the yard. “The factory.”

“What?”

“Stay close to me.”

I knew of two doors—the emergency exit we’d escaped from Saturday night and the main entrance Derek had broken into. The main doors were closest. As we headed for them, I whispered to Liz, asking her to run ahead and scout the way. If someone was coming, she’d whistle.

The door was in an alcove. I darted in and I pressed against the wall while Liz zipped through the door. She was back in a second.

“There’s a guard dead ahead,” she said. “I’ll distract him. You open the door a crack and listen for my whistle. You know a place to hide, right?”

I nodded. When we were here Saturday, Derek had us opening all the doors, searching for an exit, and I remembered a storage room that would be perfect.

When Liz gave the all clear, I eased open the door. Tori danced impatiently behind me, though I’d asked her to watch for anyone approaching.

Inside, Liz was at a closed door twenty feet away. The guard stood beside her, staring down at the knob as it slowly turned one way, then the other.

We slipped past. I could hear the distant rumble and thump of machinery and the laughs and shouts of workers. This section, though, was quiet.

We made it to the side hall easily, as the guard stood transfixed by that mysterious turning doorknob.

Liz raced up behind us. “Where to?”

I gestured to the adjoining hall. She sprinted ahead, turned the corner, and whistled the all clear. Our luck held, and we made it safely into the storage room. As its door closed, the guard’s voice echoed down the empty halls.

“Hey, Pete, come here! You gotta see this. The knob was turning by itself. I tell you, ever since Dan did a nosedive into the saws, this place has been haunted.”

He was right. Saturday night, I’d seen the ghost of a man jump into those saws. Then he’d reappeared and done it again. Was that some kind of penance? Aunt Lauren had done bad things, maybe even committed murder. If she was dead, would she go to Hell? Was she—?

I swallowed hard.

“What now?” Tori whispered.

I looked around. The room was the size of a classroom and full of boxes.

“Find a place in the back,” I said. “There’s lots of dust, which means they don’t come in here very often. We’ll hide—”

Liz ran through the door.

“They’re coming!”

“Wha—?”

“Dr. Davidoff and Sue. She saw you by the doors.”

Thanks to Tori, who’d kept such a good watch…

“Are they inside?” I asked.

“Not yet.”

“Is who inside?” Tori asked as Liz took off. “What’s going on? What’d she say?”

I told her, then opened the door a crack.

“What are you doing?” she said, tugging my sleeve. “Are you nuts? Close that!”

Tell her to be quiet, and she got louder. Tell her to stay back, and she pushed me into the line of fire. Tell her to watch for our pursuers, and she hovered at my shoulder instead. Open the door to listen, and she wanted to drag me back inside.

Ah. The beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Friendship? We’d be lucky if we survived a temporary partnership.

I told her I was trying to listen. When she argued, I glared; and for once in my life, it actually worked. Her mouth shut and she backed into the room, sulky and glowering, but silent.

“Can I help you?” the guard’s voice echoed down the hall.

“Yes, we’re looking for two teenage girls,” Dr. Davidoff replied. “We believe they came in here. They’re runaways from a nearby group home. They’re fifteen years old. One’s about five six, short dark hair. The other is five feet, reddish-blond hair.”

“With red streaks,” Sue added. “Painted red streaks.”

The guard chuckled. “Sounds like my kid, only hers are blue. Last week they were purple.”

“Teenagers,” Dr. Davidoff said with a fake laugh. “These two of ours are always slipping away. You know what girls are like. Running off to see their boyfriends and buy new lip gloss. They don’t mean any harm, but we worry about them.”

“Sure. If I see them, I’ll give you a shout. You got a card?”

“We’re quite certain they’re in here.”

“Nope. This is the only door that opens from the outside, and I’ve been at my post all shift.”

“I understand. But perhaps if we could take a look—”

A chair squeaked and I pictured the beefy man rising. “This is a factory, folks. Do you have any idea how many safety regulations I’d be breaking if I let you poke around?”

“We’ll wear hard hats and safety glasses.”

“This isn’t a public building. You can’t come in here without an appointment and an escort.”

“May we speak to the plant manager, then?”

“He’s out. Meeting. All day. I told you, no one got past me. Your girls aren’t in here. But if you really want to check, that’s fine. Get the cops and I’ll let you in.”

“We’d prefer not to involve the police.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to, ’cause it’s the only way you’re getting past me.”

After the guard chased them off, we holed up to wait for dark. We each found a separate spot, far enough apart that we had an excuse for not chatting. That was fine with me at first. Like Tori and I would have anything to chat about. But after a while, even bickering would have been better than this silent waiting with nothing to do but think. And cry. I did a lot of that, as quietly as I could. I’d taken out the envelope so often it was covered in tearstains. I wanted to open it, but I was terrified that whatever was in it wouldn’t be a good enough explanation, that it couldn’t be good enough, and I so desperately needed it to be.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I ripped it open. Inside was money, but I shoved that into my pocket without counting it, then unfolded the letter.

Aunt Lauren started by explaining how necromancy worked. In necromancer families, not everyone saw ghosts. Most didn’t. Aunt Lauren didn’t. Nor had my mom or their parents. But my uncle had. My mother’s twin brother, Ben—I’d never known she’d even had a twin. Aunt Lauren wrote.

Ben died long before you were born. Your mom would have showed you pictures, but you were too young to understand. After she was gone…there just didn’t seem any point in bringing it up. He started seeing ghosts when he was a little older than you are now. He went away to college with your mom, but it was too much for him. He came home. Your mom wanted to quit and come back, too, to keep an eye on him. He insisted she stay at school. I said I’d watch over him, but I didn’t really understand what he was going through. When he was nineteen, he died in a fall. Whether he jumped or whether he was running from ghosts, we never knew.

Did it matter? Either way, his powers had killed him. I kept telling myself ghosts couldn’t hurt me, but in my gut I knew I was wrong, and here was the proof. Just because you can’t reach out and push someone off a roof, doesn’t mean you can’t kill him.