The Haunted

More annoyed now than scared, Julian closed the curtains again and decided to go back to bed. He should have been too terrified to sleep, but staring at Lynch’s ghost had given him courage. The breach across which they’d regarded each other seemed uncrossable, and he was pretty sure that the ghost was stuck in the garage and could not come into the house. The idea gave him comfort, and while it might not signal an end to their problems, it was at least a step in the right direction.

Climbing into bed, Julian put his head down on the pillow and pulled the top sheet over himself. He fell asleep almost instantly.

He did not dream.

He was awakened in the morning by the sound of a siren. It was loud, close, and then it abruptly shut off, and Julian went into the living room and peeked out the window to see a fire truck parked in the street, halfway in front of his house. In the Ribieros’ driveway, next door, was an ambulance with its back doors open, and red and blue roof lights still flashing.

Julian hurried back to the bedroom, slipped on some jeans and a Hawaiian shirt, quickly put on his tennis shoes, then walked outside just as two paramedics wheeled a gurney out of the Ribieros’ house and into the back of the ambulance. He couldn’t tell from this angle whether Bob or Elise was on the gurney, but he got his answer moments later when Bob emerged from the house with another paramedic who was jotting something down on a clipboard.

Julian didn’t want to intrude, so he stayed where he was, watching from the sidelines.

The surprising thing was that he was the only person from the neighborhood out here. Glancing around, he didn’t even see anyone peeking through their windows or out from behind a parted curtain. His neighbors, apparently, had no interest in what happened on their street, and he remembered how no one had come out to see what was going on when the police arrived to arrest John Lynch.

The ambulance left, siren off, which was hopefully a good sign, and the remaining firemen and paramedics put on their helmets and got onto the fire engine. Bob Ribiero locked up his house, saw Julian, glared at him, then got into his car and followed the ambulance down the street.

What was that about?

Frowning, Julian walked out to the sidewalk just as the fire engine pulled away. He’d wanted to ask one of the men what had happened, but he missed the chance by a few seconds and ended up watching the fire truck leave.

Once again, he looked around at the neighborhood houses and, this time, across the street, he saw Spencer Allred standing on his front porch. Finally, someone. Julian waved, walking over. At the sight of him, the old man looked as though he wanted to go back inside his house and hide, but he didn’t; he waited, and Julian walked up to the porch, stopping at the bottom step. He gestured toward the Ribieros’ place. “That was Elise,” he said. “I wonder what happened. Heart attack?”

“Your house,” Spencer replied.

Julian looked at him, startled. “What?”

“Your house happened to her.”

Julian didn’t know how to respond to that.

Spencer sighed. “It’s not your fault. It might not even be your house, exactly. This whole street is … off. But your house is at the center of it, and the Ribieros live right next door.” He thought for a moment, as though not sure whether he should say what he wanted to say. “You know, the reason some of us, a lot of us came to your party, your housewarming party, was because we wanted to see the inside of it for ourselves. And when it … when it ended the way it did … Well, let’s just say that most of us weren’t that surprised.”

Julian felt a thrill of excitement. “So you know something!”

The old man shook his head, backed away. “I don’t know anything.”

“You weren’t surprised? Why not? You do know something.” Julian moved up a step. “What’s going on here? What’s wrong with our house?”

Spencer reached the door. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. Forty years I lived here, minding my own business. That’s the only way to survive: don’t get involved.” He pulled open the screen door, stepping inside. “Now go home. Get away from here.”

“Spencer?” his wife called from inside the house.

“Coming!” he answered.

He closed the door.

Julian turned around. From this vantage point, there seemed nothing wrong with his house. Or the garage. But he knew better, and Spencer Allred did, too. Probably most of the homeowners on this street did, and as he walked back home, he wondered whether the ambulance siren had been off because Elise Ribiero was already dead.

Twenty-eight

Megan awoke in the morning refreshed. She was used to feeling tense and stressed when she emerged from sleep, and this was such a pleasant change that she lay there for a few extra moments, staring up at the bands of light formed on the ceiling by the sun shining through slats in the shades, enjoying the sensation of freedom.

Freedom from the house.

It felt over, all of it, despite what had happened the night before last, and she reached over to the nightstand and turned on her iPhone, not afraid of it anymore. She might even text her friends today, and just thinking that made her feel good. Putting on her robe, she walked across the hall to go to the bathroom and was embarrassed when she pulled down her pajama bottoms and saw the cuts on her legs.

That ended today, too.

She was not much of a breakfast eater, but once again her grandma had made a big breakfast—pancakes and bacon—and out of politeness, Megan forced herself to eat.

For some reason she could not explain, she wanted to go back home. Not to stay, of course. And definitely not at night. But in the daytime, when it was safe.

When her dad was there.

Part of it was that, of course. It had been only one night, but she missed her dad, and it didn’t feel right without him here. James had worriedly asked before breakfast whether their parents were going to get a divorce, and she’d told him no, but she wasn’t sure that was true. It didn’t make any sense for the family to be separated like this, and she knew that Grandma and Grandpa thought there was something wrong, which they tried to make up for by being especially nice to her and her brother. She hoped that wasn’t the case, but she thought of how angry her mom had been—

We need to get out of here! All of us! Right. Fucking. Now!

—and it troubled her. Talking to her dad might help. He was always more honest with her and James than their mom was, and he might be willing to give some honest answers.

But that was not the only reason she wanted to go back.

No. She also wanted to return home to see whether things had changed.

By all rights, their house should have been the last place she wanted to go. She was finally brave enough to use her phone again, finally felt free to text, and it made no sense to go back to where she’d been so threatened and terrified.

I will kill you both.

But, for some reason, she had the impression that whatever had been in the house was gone—and she wanted to check it out for herself. The feeling of freedom and liberation that had been hers this morning since awakening was not one she had felt when she’d left the house before. In fact, the black cloud that had hovered over her at home had previously accompanied her no matter where she went. Now, however, it was gone, and she didn’t think that would be possible unless whatever had been living in their house had left.

It was important for Megan to find out for herself whether that was the case, and she was hopeful that if the