Ollie glanced back into the farmyard. Had all thescarecrows been facing the house before? Because all those faces—every single one of those scarecrow faces—was pointed toward the front door. “Guys,” said Ollie. “Look. Have the scarecrows...”
Brian and Coco turned—and shuddered. All the scarecrows had their hands up. The light glinted dully on the tips of the rakes, the edges of scythes and trowels. “Yes,” Brian whispered. “They definitely moved.”
“Come inside,” said Ollie, trying to sound as brave as she could. “Let’s look around. We just have to hurry.” She went into the house with her two friends at her heels.
The floorboards creaked. The wallpaper was coming off in streamers. A little thin daylight trickled in the dirty windows, but shadows seemed to lie thick in the corners. To their right lay a sitting room, with torn pink fabric on the walls. In front of them was a staircase leading up into the blackness of the second floor. To the left was the kitchen.
“Hello?” called Coco. “Is anyone here?”
No answer. Ollie looked at her watch. 45:16, said the countdown.UP.
Ollie headed into the kitchen. Coco and Brian followed. There was no sound but the squeaking floorboards. The kitchen was full of old-fashioned plates and cups and pots, all covered with a thick layer of dust. The woodstove was rusty, the wood beside it bone-dry.
“I think we should go upstairs,” said Ollie. “My watch saysUP.”
Brian was already poking through the woodpile. “Hang on. There’s kindling here,” he said. “I’m going to make a fire, if I can find some matches.”
“And let everyone know we’re here?” Ollie snapped.
Brian shrugged. “The scarecrows know already,” he pointed out. “If anyone else is out there, they probably know too. I’m cold. You’re cold. Coco’s got wet feet and she’s probably really cold.”
Coco’s small face looked pale and pinched under Ollie’s rainbow hat. “Just a bit cold,” she said stubbornly.
“You’ll be a lot warmer with dry socks,” said Brian. “We’ll make a fire and dry them. Tell your mom to buy you wool socks next time. Cotton’s no good.”
“If the chimney’s blocked, you’ll burn the house down,” Ollie warned, but only halfheartedly. Brian was right. Coco was really pale; they didn’t want her getting sick.
“Well,” said Brian with a ghost of good cheer, “let’s find out.” He began to lay a fire. “I bet Coco’d kill for dry socks, let alone risk burning the house down.”
“You do that,” Ollie said. “I’m still going upstairs.”
“I don’t think we should split up,” said Coco. “What if someone—what if a bad thing comes?”
“It’s not dark yet,” Ollie said.
“That’s not the only bad thing!” cried Coco. “What about the ghost?”
“She wasn’tbad,” said Ollie. “Just dead.”
Coco looked exasperated. “She was scary! I’m staying down here,” she said just as Brian cried, “Matches!” He popped out of the pantry covered in cobwebs, waving a dusty old matchbox.
“Are yousurethis is a good idea?” asked Coco. But she looked happier than she had in a while. Who could blame her? Even Ollie was cold and she was wearing more clothes and was used to being outside all the time.
“Yep!” said Brian. He began putting wood in the stove.
“Hope it works,” said Coco eagerly.
Ollie unzipped her backpack and pulled out her unicorn lunch box. She broke off a piece of the pumpkin pie and put the rest on the table. “Here,” said Ollie. “We should all eat something before it gets dark. Try not to burn the house down. I’m going upstairs.”
Ollie marched off, chomping her portion of the slice of pie, leaving Brian and Coco going through her lunch box on the scarred kitchen table. A little fire had begun to sputter in the stove. Ollie wondered if she wasn’t doing something really dumb, going off by herself.
The first bedroom was just to the right of the top of the staircase. The wallpaper had a pattern of cherries, which should have been cheerful except the paper wasstained and the only light came from the gloomy outdoors. The bed had a moth-eaten red blanket. A vanity table with empty bottles. A bookcase. Ollie paused in the doorway, glancing behind her. Nothing. Just a hallway, with stairs at one end and the other end dark.
Ollie bit her lip. Each step she took made the floor creak. Ollie crept closer to the bookcase. A Bible.A Book of Common Prayer.A Child’s Guide to Virtue.Mrs. Beardsley’s Domestic Sciences.
Another floorboard creaked. It took her a moment to realize it wasn’t her. She whirled. Steps. Coming from the darkness at the end of the hall. Soft, steady steps. Ollie froze.
A hand appeared on the doorframe. A thin, yellow-nailed hand.
