“What about the doll?”

“Forget about the doll,” I said. “Let’s go upstairs, okay?”

Kasey’s bright eyes still drilled into me. In the darkness they looked strangely blank.

I stared at her for a second, and the doll from my dream came out of my memory: Your sister is crazy.

She took a deep breath. “What?” she asked, even though I hadn’t said anything.

“Forget it,” I said. “Come on. I’ll go first, make sure the coast is clear.”

No point in both of us getting in trouble.

Kasey waited at the bottom of the stairs. I opened the basement door and crept out into the hall.

All clear.

I opened the door slightly. “It’s fine, come up.”

Then I went to the kitchen, so if Mom came downstairs, we’d look innocent.

I got myself a glass of water, sat at the table, and slowly sipped it.

Five minutes later I noticed with a start that the glass was empty and Kasey still hadn’t appeared.

I went back to the basement door and opened it.

“Kase?” I asked.

No answer, just a rustling sound from the corner.

I took a slow step down, the blood in my veins suddenly electrified.

I went around the U with little chills running up my spine. A Kasey-size shadow was way back in the darkest corner of the room, near the long-abandoned tool bench, making clanking noises as it dug through piles of discarded junk. Werewolf, my brain said. Zombie! I snatched the flashlight off the card table and switched it on.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

My sister looked up at me, squinting into the beam of light. “Oh, hi.”

“Answer me,” I said. “What are you doing?”

“I heard something,” she said, wiping her hands on her pants. “And then I…I thought I would see if I could find your ancestor report.”

“Why would it be down here?”

She shook her head. “I thought you moved your old file cabinet down here when you got the new one.”

“No. They’re both in my closet,” I said. “Now come upstairs.”

She started slowly through the sea of junk, using her left hand to steady herself.

“Are you holding something?” I asked. “What?” she said. “In your right hand.” “No.”

“Are you…” I sighed. “Forget it. I’m going upstairs.”

The headachy, sleepy feeling was coming back. I wondered if maybe we had a toxic mold problem. As an afterthought I pointed the light at the pipes on the ceiling. Now that I was standing up, I was close enough to see the red marks for what they really were—

Skulls and crossbones. Dozens of them, stamped on sloppily.

Nice. So glad to know we’d been breathing poison air all night.

I climbed the stairs and went back to my spot at the kitchen table, drawing deep breaths to clear out my lungs.

Kasey followed me as far as the kitchen doorway. “Can you go get your ancestor report?” she asked.

“Why don’t you go get it?” I asked. “Look in the cabinet on the left, top drawer—eighth-grade history, Miss Cardillo.”

Kasey nodded, then looked sheepish. “Will you make me mac and cheese?” she asked sweetly, crinkling her nose. “Pleeeease? I’ll do the dishes.”

I shrugged. I was feeling a little better. “Sure.”

She took a second, concentrating on something down to her right side, something hidden by the wall so I couldn’t see it.

“What is that?” I demanded.

She froze and looked up. Caught.

“What’s what?”

“Whatever’s in your hand.”

“I don’t have anything in my hand, Lexi,” she said.

I stared at her, and she gazed serenely back at me. Just to be a little mean, I clicked the flashlight on and shined it at her face.

And maybe I was just tired or something, but— Her eyes…They were green. Vivid green.

“I…” I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Never mind.”

“See you in a sec,” she said, disappearing up the stairs.

8

A FEW MINUTES LATER Kasey came hippity-hopping into the kitchen with the report in hand, singing to herself. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and sat down.

She twirled a piece of her hair around a finger and flipped through the pages while I collected the dirty dinner dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

Somebody had to clean up. Mom would be content leaving them until the weekend. Dad might have done it when he got home, but it gave me something to do while Kasey read over my stuff and decided how much she could risk copying without getting caught.

“Mom’s grandma was born in Surrey?” Kasey asked.

“Is that what it says?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Then…yes.”

“Ooh,” she said, unfolding a big sheet of newsprint. “Your family tree is pretty.”

I glanced at it and remembered how the teacher was so impressed that she hung it on the wall. That was back when teachers still liked me.

“I’d better make a new one,” she said, pushing her chair back from the table and skipping toward the stairs.

Content with the clean kitchen, I took out a saucepan and filled it with water for the noodles. I set it on the stove and remembered that I hadn’t wiped off the table.

I went back to the dining room with a dishrag, and when I looked out into the hallway I saw that the basement door was open, just a crack.

Kasey must not have latched it all the way.

I started toward it.

As I approached, the door slowly opened a few more inches.

“Kasey?” I asked. Maybe she was messing with me. I’d heard her thump up the stairs, but she could have sneaked back down.

In theory.

I could hardly force myself to take another halting half step.

A cool puff of air seemed to move across my legs, and a faint, bitter smell drifted into my nose.

“Kasey,” I said in my best jokey voice, “present yourself.”

“I’m right here.”

I spun around to see Kasey looking at me from the kitchen doorway.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

I turned back to look at the basement door—

It was closed.

“…Nothing,” I said. “I guess.” “Come help me,” she said.

I went back to the kitchen table and sat down. She’d brought a shoe box full of pens and markers and a giant piece of poster board. One nice thing about a mom who works in the office supply industry, you always have plenty of art supplies on hand.

“You do the trunk,” she commanded, passing me a brown marker. I obeyed and found that drawing eased the fluttery, nervous feeling in my stomach.

“Sorry about what happened with Mom,” I said.

Kasey shrugged.

“That’s why I’m not ever having kids,” I said. “It sucks to have to pick between your job and your family. Besides, I can live without drooling rug rats hanging off me.”

She didn’t even crack a smile.

“Mimi’s mom stays home, right?” I asked. “And look how horrible Pepper turned out. So it’s just as well.”

Kasey sighed. “I don’t care.”

“So if you don’t hang out with Mimi, who do you eat lunch with now? What about Devon?” I was really scraping the bottom of the barrel. Devon was best known as the kid who could name every Star Trek episode ever made—including all the spin-offs.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kasey said, looking away.

A thought nagged at me. “Kase,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “That day…did Mimi try to…do something to one of your dolls?”

My sister’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Yeah, well, I did. And I’m the big sister. Kasey’s eyes lit up.

“Look, time to put the noodles in,” she said, pointing to the pot on the stove.

The water bubbled enthusiastically in a roiling boil. My hands immediately turned clammy and cold. “Kasey,” I said, “I didn’t turn the burner on yet.” Her face went white. “What’s going on?” I asked.

Kasey stared at the stove, then leaped off the stool and grabbed the pot by its handle. I staggered backward, thinking for a moment that she was going to throw the hot water on me. Instead she poured it in the sink and dropped the pot in too.