Fifteen minutes later, Una walked into Charles’s room, the vacuum trailing behind her. She was surprised to see the boy lying on his bed. His eyes were closed, and a pair of yellow headphones flattened his curly orange hair. His fingers tapped out a rhythm on his chest.
Una knocked on his open door. He slitted his eyes and then bolted upright in surprise. “Hi! Sorry. I didn’t know you were here.”
Una grinned. “I didn’t know you were here, either.”
Charles reddened. “I’m supposed to be studying—like, memorizing stuff for my bar mitzvah.”
“My son always listens to music when he studies. He says it helps things soak into his brain.”
Charles nodded. “Same here.”
They smiled at each other, enjoying this small moment of kinship.
“Mrs. Pulaski made you a treat.”
“Cookies?” he asked hopefully.
“Rugelach.”
His face fell. “I like her Polish cookies the best. The ones with the jam.”
“I like them, too.”
“My mom says she wants to start her own business. She totally should. She’s the best baker on Long Island.”
Una sprayed Endust onto a rag, while surreptitiously studying Charles.
Despite what he’d seen at the regatta, he looked well. And even though she couldn’t linger, chatting about music and cookies, she wanted the boy to know that she was in his corner. She wanted to tell him that she’d also seen something horrible when she was close to his age. She’d survived it, and he would, too.
Before she could raise the subject, Charles crossed the room and put a hand on the stack of books on his desk. “Me and Jill have been trying to figure out what I saw. She told me how you drove her home from the library—and that you knew why she took out so many mythology books. She said that... we could tell you things. Even if they sounded crazy.”
Very softly, Una said, “Yes, you can.”
Charles opened one of the books and took out a piece of paper from between the pages. It was filled with letters written in black ink. The language was unfamiliar to Una, but she thought the letters were beautiful. “Is this what you’re studying?” she asked.
“It’s Hebrew, but it’s not what I’m supposed to be memorizing.” He traced the letters with his fingers, coming to a pause on what Una assumed was a particular word. “This line is about a demon called Lamia. It was written a really long time ago.”
He paused for so long that Una didn’t think he’d continue. She noticed that his hands had begun to tremble.
“It’s okay” she said. “You can trust me.”
Shoving his hands under his armpits, he curled inward, like a pill bug. “I don’t think we’re safe. Me, Jill, J.J., Justin—none of us are safe.”
“Because you think Lamia’s real?”
Charles pointed at his window and whispered, “Yeah. And I think she’s in that house.”
Not anymore, thought Una, her skin prickling with fear.She’s come out.
24
Jill
Jill was caught between a rock and a hard place.
Her mother had just told her that she could spend her Saturday morning cheering on her teammates in their swim meet against the Dolphins or working for Mrs. Smith.
“Her yard men prepped the beds on either side of her driveway yesterday. They even dug the holes for the flowers, but the flowers weren’t delivered until after the guys left. All you have to do is put the flowers in the holes, cover them with dirt, and toss the pots in the trash.” Jill’s mother waved a piece of bacon in the air as she spoke. Lady and Tramp tracked the glistening piece of meat with hopeful eyes. “She offered to pay youtwentydollars an hour because she feels bad about your hand.”
