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“The police won’t do anything?” Kasey said. “Even after Kendra practically died?”
“She’s not dead,” I snapped. “She’s doing much better.”
Mom sighed. “Don’t forget, there were no indications that what happened to Kendra was any kind of foul play. She just got lost.”
“Barefoot?” Kasey asked. “In the middle of the night?”
Mom shrugged. “Kase, we haven’t seen the police report, so we don’t know what happened. But there’s no point in getting paranoid. It sounds like Ashleen ran away with a boy. Would you guys know anything about that?”
“No; why do you say that—about the boy?” I asked. If Ashleen had a secret boyfriend, she wouldn’t have been so yearny over Jared.
Mom’s chest rose and fell in a sigh. “Because there was a rose on the ground just outside her bedroom—a yellow rose.”
I spun away to hide my reaction from my mother and sister.
So the bird necklace either hadn’t been destroyed…or it wasn’t Lydia’s power center.
She was still out there. She hadn’t been stopped.
Which meant my normal life was pretty much over.
But Ashleen hadn’t even been in the Sunshine Club. Had she and Lydia even known each other? Maybe Lydia had tried to recruit her at some point and Ashleen had said no. Or maybe she said yes and just didn’t have a chance to join.
Or could there be some other random reason? And now Lydia was just going to carry out revenge against anyone who got on her bad side? God knows that wasn’t hard to do. There was no rhyme or reason to this, no common link—it seemed she was just going to go around luring people into the woods and try to kill them.
Unless someone stopped her. And who else would—who else could—except me?
I spent the whole school day in a haze, knowing that the clock was ticking and the odds of Ashleen being found alive were decreasing by the minute.
I’m weak. It had become almost a mantra, and I had a headful of anecdotal evidence to back it up. If I went out looking for Lydia, she could kill me. How on earth could I possibly win?
What right did I have to fight her?
But then, walking down the hall toward lunch, seeing a poster on the wall for the silent auction being held to help with Kendra’s medical bills, it struck me:
What right did I have to fight Lydia…?
That was the wrong question.
What right did I have not to fight her—even if I knew I’d lose?
But I still needed a plan.
By the time the final bell rang, I’d exhausted all of my mental energy trying to come up with a way to stop her. And I still had nothing, no magical ghost-fighting scheme.
Then, when I least expected it, I got the next best thing:
A lucky break.
SAVANNAH, SAVANNAH, SAVANNAH.
She’d backslid with a vengeance since her virtuous tarot card–burning days. For three weeks in a row, she’d come to Brighter Path with new stories of her paranormal adventures and new trinkets for the box.
As Sava
In the old days, that would have been a joke. And I would have had to pinch myself to keep from laughing and getting into trouble. But Megan was deadly serious, which made it about as fu
“Hello. Sava
“Levitating?” Ben repeated, aghast.
“Well, we tried. And we made a chanting circle, and we found this book of charms and tried some of them.”
She held up a small blue paperback and shrugged. “None of it worked. I think it’s because my cousin wasn’t pure of intention, but—”
Sava
But more important, I could read the author’s name: WALTER SAWAMURA.
Walter Sawamura was the real deal. He’d written the book that helped me save my sister from the evil ghost that lived in our old house.
“Thank you, no need to go into detail,” Ben said hastily. He got up and held out the box, and Sava
I was starting to think she might have a real problem, the kind of thing Brother Ben couldn’t fix. She was like a snorkeler throwing pork chops around in shark-infested waters. Eventually, some evil spirit was going to take a chomp out of her. I was even tempted to talk to her outside of Brighter Path.
One problem at a time, Alexis.
For the rest of the meeting I focused on thinking of a way to get to that book. I was so distracted that I didn’t even listen to Megan’s weekly testimony, and when she came back and sat next to me with that shiny hopeful look in her eyes, I didn’t have the energy to seem apologetic.
“Not this week,” I said.
She sighed and gave me a tiny smile. “Maybe next time.”
Yeah, sure. Not likely.
After Brother Ben delivered his closing “Choose the Brighter Path!” pep talk and said good-bye for the day, Megan gathered her things and looked at me expectantly.
“Um, hang on,” I said. “Wait for me outside, okay? I need to talk to Ben.”
Her eyes burned with curiosity, but she headed for the door.
Ben was packing up his plastic crate. He wasn’t even looking at the contraband box, which was unattended on a chair in the first row of seats. If I were slightly braver, I would have just opened it, grabbed what I wanted, and run out.
But I cleared my throat, and he stood up and turned to face me. “Lex! What’s up?”
I tried to look uncomfortable. It wasn’t much of a stretch. “I sort of have something to turn in. I couldn’t do it, you know, in front of…”
I was going to say everyone, but Ben said, “Megan?”
“Um, right.”
He clasped his hands in front of his stomach. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” I said. “Not really.”
His tiny eyes gave me a long appraising look. “This makes me feel a lot of hope for you, Alexis. I think you should be really proud of yourself.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“May I see it?” he asked.
Um. I hadn’t actually pla
Ben’s expression was understandably confused when I held up a permanent marker.
“I’ve been, um, using this,” I said, “to create pictures. Of symbols and signs…and stuff.”
He nodded slowly.
“It’s more kind of…what it represents?” I said.
“Of course,” he said. “Well, that’s very conscientious of you. Why don’t you go ahead and put it in the box?”
I smiled and turned away from him, blocking his view of the box with my body. I dropped the pen in with exaggerated loudness. But there was no way to slip the book out without his noticing.
“Good girl!” he said. “Now, want to help me carry this stuff out to my car?”
“Of course,” I said, picking up the box.
He lifted the crate and led the way. I followed a few feet behind, finally summoning the burst of daring I needed to open the cover of the box and remove the book, sliding it into my bag.
And then we were outside, where Megan was waiting on a bench, smiling bigger than she’d smiled at me in a long time.
Universe, 9 bazillion. Alexis, 1.
Then there was the question of how to actually find Ashleen. I turned on the local news as soon as I got home, hoping they would show a view from a helicopter. But Ashleen’s coverage was lighter than Kendra’s had been. They had a quick update about her—apparently the police had finally decided to get involved—and put her picture in a little on-screen graphic, but they didn’t go into much detail about the investigation.