“No,” I snap and flip on the light switch near the wall.
“What are you doing?” Corey cries dejectedly.
“Leaving, just like I said. You guys can play your games alone. Come on, Kate.” Now that the lights are on, I feel the tiniest bit braver, until I have to walk into the dark living room to get to the front door.
There’s an orange glow coming from the porch, so I focus on that. I wish I knew where the lamps were, because I would turn them on too, but we usually go straight upstairs to Corey’s bedroom when we hang out here.
“You’re right, Corey, they are punk bitches.” Emma delivers the insult as if us being scared is the worst thing ever. I feel their stares on my back, but I can deal with their eyes.
“I’d rather be a punk than an asshole. Besides, isn’t this what you wanted? We got scared. Big deal.”
“We wanted you here so he could fully manifest, but you’re probably too weak for that anyway.” Emma bobs her head from left to right while she’s speaking in full mean girl style.
“Who, Kyle?” I scoff while twisting the doorknob and flinging it open. It bangs on the couch with a thud. “Oops.” I fake a wince and practically push Kate out the door in front of me.
“Do you think it was really Kyle?” Kate asks before we even make it to my car.
“Probably, I bet they spent all week planning the whole thing just to mess with us.” I jerk my door open and glance back at the house. Corey and Emma are standing in the doorway watching us, but movement in the upstairs window catches my eye. “We see your little accomplice upstairs!” I yell to them, not caring that it’s late and people are probably sleeping.
Emma jerks her head up and to the left, as if she’s searching. I can’t see her face, the weird glow from the giant pumpkin on the porch doesn’t give off enough light for that, but her reaction seems to be born more of shock than anger that they were discovered.
Both girls step back, and the door slams shut. I swallow when I realize Corey didn’t move a muscle. I have no idea how the door shut. I shake my head, pushing away the idea that a ghost did it.
The glow in the house goes out, plummeting the entire place into darkness. Another chill works its way down my spine as I drop into the driver’s seat and slam my door closed before hitting the lock button.
“Buckle up,” are my only words to Kate before I punch the gas as soon as my car is in gear.
CHAPTER2
“Lethe Morte, you’re needed in the office.”
You’d think for as long as I’ve lived here, they could learn how to pronounce my name correctly. I roll my eyes, but then I realize I’ve never once been called to the office. What the hell could they want from me?
Horrible scenarios about my mom being in a car accident or my dad having a heart attack fill my mind until I’m almost reluctant to stand up—that is until a few students turn to stare at me. I can’t even blame them. I would be curious as hell too. Nothing happens in our tiny little town, and having the girl voted most likely to read during lunch period being called down to the office is something.
Ms. Cunningham doesn’t meet my eyes as I pass her desk. Does she know something I don’t?
The halls feel strangely empty as I make my way to the main office. When I see the sheriff’s SUV parked right in front of the doors, lights swirling with color but no sound coming from the siren, I stop in my tracks. This can’t be happening. I didn’t even speak to my mom this morning before I left. I might have hummed a few inarticulate responses to her wishing me a good day as I lumbered out the door, but that was it.
I haven’t even seen my dad in a few months. Maybe it’s him? The instant relief and guilt I feel in the same moment brings tears to my eyes.
“Let-he.” The unfamiliar voice says my name all wrong.
I turn to find a blurry man dressed in all blue approaching me. “Is it my dad? Please tell me it’s not my mom!” I shake my head, and I feel tears land on my shirt. I don’t even realize I’m backing away until he grows more distant.
“No, no,” the officer scoffs while stepping closer and placing his hand on my shoulder to keep me from fleeing. “Your parents are fine as far as I know. I just spoke to your mom. I’m here about Corey Hunt.”
“Corey?” I question, still confused. There’s some part of me that is still convinced my parents are dead, and I can’t wrap my head around anything else. “She’s not here today,” I tell him while wiping at my cheek.
“I know. Do you mind stepping into the office with me?” He lifts his hand in a welcoming gesture, motioning toward the office door. When I glance that way, I spot two of the school office aides staring at us, but both try to cover it badly when they look down and pretend to be busy.
“Did something happen to Corey?” I question as my legs carry me over the crappy old carpet and into the main office at his direction.
The officer leads me toward a door that says “conference room” and puts a tiny bit of pressure on my back to get me to go through the entrance. The table looks just like the ones in the library, big and worn, and even the chairs match with their weird rough green and brown fabric.
When he pulls out a chair for me, I drop into the seat as if my legs chose that moment to give way. “Can you tell me where you were last night?” he asks.
“Um… I was at Corey’s house. You’re sure my parents are okay?”
