Switch

He shrugged and looked away. 'That's between you and

your mom, Paige.'

Another guy? It had to be. Why else would Leo look so…

lost? And on a man his size, with that beard, the tattoos

and the denim biker vest, lost wasn't a look I'd ever

expected to see.

'I gotta run,' Leo said and leaned across the table to ruffle Arty's hair. 'Take care of the kiddo.'

'Of course.' I watched him head out and turned back to

Arty. 'Where did Mama say she was going?'

'To a spar,' he said.

'A spa?'

'Yeah, that's what I said. A spa. She's going to get a

message.'

I sighed. 'A massage?'

He grinned, showing the gap between his teeth where he'd

He grinned, showing the gap between his teeth where he'd

lost one. 'Yeah.'

'Alone?'

'I guess so.' Arty shrugged.

It wasn't like I could realy expect him to know more, but

why had she lied to me?

I woke, disoriented, when a smal hand tugged my arm.

Expecting Arty, I sat up and fumbled for the light next to

my bed, but there wasn't one. I blinked until my eyes

focused, but my brother wasn't hovering over me. The

touch I'd felt had come from nothing.

I sat straight up, the blankets I'd tucked so carefuly

around me fighting against me now. At the foot of my bed

stood two smal children, both about Arty's age, clutching

each other's hands. Pale, white children I didn't need a

lamp to see because they both gleamed in the darkness.

Pale children with empty black holes where their eyes

should've been and blood dripping from their ragged

fingertips. Behind them, the attic door gaped wide.

I waited for the blood to start pouring out of the door like

it did in The Shining, but al that happened was they

it did in The Shining, but al that happened was they

stared. And stared. The pounding of my heart became a

roar and I did the only thing I had the courage to do. I

closed my eyes, then clapped my hands over them, too.

Nothing happened until I heard a smal voice whisper,

'Take care of us.'

Then I screamed, and screamed and screamed…until I sat

straight up in bed to the sound of my phone ringing. The

attic door was stil closed. No ghostly children were

begging me to adopt them. The room wasn't even that

dark, lit as it was by the light from an outside streetlamp

through the window.

I stumbled out of bed and dug in my purse for my cel. My