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“Don’t leave the—”

It’s the woman’s voice, cut short, but when I turn, her stool is still empty. The bartender looks at me, brows raised, as if I startled at nothing.

“Well, off with you then,” he says. “You made your choice.”

I hesitate there in the doorway. Don’t leave the bar. That’s what she’d been saying.

That’s what Henry and I had already known. The bar is a sanctuary. Do not go into the forest.

Only there isn’t forest here. I can see it, in the distance, but this is just the rotting front porch of the dive bar. I take one more step, and my heart thuds.

Don’t go.

You know better.

It’s a trick.

Don’t—

Something hits me between the shoulder blades and I sail out over the threshold. I smash into the rotted railing and start to fall—

And slam back against my seat.

My seat …

I blink hard and look around.

I’m sitting in my car, my foot on the brake, my hands on the steering wheel, the airbag back in place, never deployed.

It’s daylight and in front of me is …

My parents’ house.

I’m sitting in front of my parents’ house, in my car, which has not been in an accident. It’s early morning, and there’s someone in the yard. A gray-haired man in a plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up, a brimmed hat shading the sun as he rakes the yard.

“Dad,” I whisper.

Unease slithers through me, but I push it away. I don’t know what happened last night. Did I fall asleep at the wheel? Dream the rest—the accident, the unnatural forest, the monsters, the dive bar? If so, how did I end up here?

Does it matter? a little voice whispers.

You’ve been tired, Ellie. Bone-tired in every way. Something happened. A hallucination. Driving in your sleep. What matters is that you’re home. You’re finally home.

I climb from the car, smiling as I wait for Dad to look over. When he doesn’t, my stomach twists.

Stop that. It was a nightmare. What do you think is going to happen? That he’ll turn and have worms for a face?

I let the door slam shut. He keeps raking.

A deep breath, and then I head for the house. “Hey, Dad,” I call.

When he doesn’t turn, I freeze.

What if I’m not really here? What if I’m a ghost. I said I wanted to go home and the bartender sent me there, except I’m dead and a ghost and—

“Oh!” Dad says as he turns, as if seeing my shadow. “You surprised me there.”

It’s my father. No worms. No monster’s face. Just my dad, with his outdated glasses and trim gray beard.