PROLOGUE
Adora
Six Years Old
On the Night of the Full Wolf Moon
The Sullivan Cottage
January 7th, 2004
Hushed whispers twistedlike ribbons and slid across wooden floors throughout the cottage.
“For crying out loud, talk to me,” Dad pleaded. I’d never heard the hurt so deeply threaded in his voice before, but I could tell he was trying to keep his voice low so we wouldn’t hear. “Please just talk to me, Marcy. I don’t want to do this.”
Momma never said a word.
The front doorscreechedwhen it opened, and the floorboards groaned under Sacred Sea feet. There must have been at least three of them in the cottage. Maybe four or five, I couldn’t tell.
“What are they doing down there?” Fable was scared, clutching her stuffed unicorn close to her chest. The faint glow from the kerosene lamp sitting on the floor between the three of us touched her soft, freckled cheeks. “Are they going to take Momma? I don’t want them to take Momma.”
“Shh… No one’s taking Momma. We can’t leave Weeping Hollow, remember? We’re all safe here together,” I whispered with a bright smile. “They’re just here to make her feel better. RememberAre You Afraid of the Dark,the game we used to play? The one where we’d hide and seek—”
Fable nodded, two hopeful eyes now. “With flashlights!”
“That’s all. Momma’s going to have fun, you’ll see. Now, try to keep quiet. I can’t hear what they’re saying down there.”
Ivy leaned in. “You and your stories.”
The air was thick with all three of us huddled on the other side of my bedroom door, but it was cold. So cold. I was wearing Momma’s pretty red dress—the one with thin straps and silky fabric. With my back against the wall, I covered my bare feet with the skirt of it. I had to get closer to the hushed voices slipping under the door from the other side. But I still couldn’t make anything out.
I climbed to my knees and reached for the door handle. The brass knob was like ice under my fingers, and the hinges creaked when I opened the door.
Ivy gasped. “Don’t, Adora. They’ll hear you,” she whispered frantically. “It’s safer here.”
“I need to know what’s happening.” I opened my bedroom door a little more, just enough to slip through. Then I stood and carefully walked to the stairs.
Ivy crept behind me. She could never let me walk into the unknown alone.
The wooden spindles at the top of the stairs were cold in my fists, and I stuck my head between them.
For a moment, I thought I heard Momma’s voice telling me thatif you pop your head between the spindles, it will get stuck there forever. But Momma’s voice was nothing but a memory.
Below, Mr. Pruitt, Mrs. Cantini, and Dad formed a circle by the front door, speaking low. Our high priest was here, and the seriousness of what was to come on this night sent a chill crawling up my spine. I shivered when Dad stepped to the side, revealing a young boy standing in the middle of them, but I couldn’t see his face. I wanted to see his face and know who he was.
Dad’s eyes were red, sockets swollen like his tears had punched him repeatedly. “She never said why,” he cried. “She’s never done anything crazy like this before.”
“This doesn’t seem like Marcy at all,” Mrs. Cantini muttered. “With all the secrets of Weeping Hollow, this is one I cannot explain. I’ll need more time.” She laid a hand on Dad’s shoulder. “We will figure this out, Ronan. I swear to you, we will figure this out and make sure your girls are safe in the meantime.”
They talked for a moment longer while the boy stayed quiet and hidden.
Then Dad shook his head, and they all walked out of view.
Fable cried out for us in a whisper.
Ivy pinched my arm. “Fable’s scared. Let’s go back.”
“Who is that boy?”
