mia didn't waste time admiring the boards she secured across ava's window, but stole another xannie, grabbed the slats, and blew through the door to the living room.

why am i sweltering? she used her shirt to wipe her forehead, pits, and chest. for a split second she considered opening a window, then face-palmed her stupidity, grabbed the next piece of siding, and hammered another barricade.

outside, magnolias bobbed to the rhythm of the wind. branches waved and wiggled like the arms of a blow-up man promoting a mattress sale.

mia had never been afraid of storms... but she'd never experienced one in a century-old ranch. every pane rattled. the fireplace whistled like blowing a bottle top. every few seconds, the roof inhaled, held its breath, then sighed.

the slats aren't just keeping someone out, they're holding this house together.

she finished boarding the living room and checked her cell.

no service. no texts. 4% battery.

she was just about to pocket her phone when she had an epiphany. i can make calls on wi-fi!

she dragged the remaining planks to the kitchen, dropped them by the back door, and plugged her phone in the charger already laying on the counter.

she opened a secondary chat app, double checked her wi-fi connection, and clicked the icon by nolan's name. (whiffs of last night's affair haunted mia with every ring; that sweaty, human smell of unfamiliar sex, that male musk ladened with the same breath-stealing effect as ammonia, and—somewhere beneath it all—that stupid fucking skunk. the smells were so real she had to glance behind her to make sure he wasn't sniffing her neck.)

nolan answered on the third ring. "hello?"

"it's me," she pleaded. "i need you. now."

* * *

the open hatch was an invitation.

patience, ava told herself.

she placed the tape player back by the trap door where she found them, then pressed her ear against the closet (how many times had he done the same?), made sure she was alone, and left.

ava stepped through her bedroom as if she was selecting a casket at a funeral home.

palm against black paint, she wondered what type of person had access to such an impossible gift.

splotches above the closet door; only with the most careful scrutiny was she able to see the outline of the claw that had frightened her sister.

he was standing right here, she thought. twice! once when he left the print, once to cover it up. touching it made her feel small.

girls in high school used to say that a guy's obsession could either be adorable or creepy depending on his appearance. when an attractive man watches you sleep, it's cute. when an ugly guy does it...

ava had asked her sister what the man looked like (right before mia snagged her hair and tried dragging her to the car). "rugged," was all she'd say before claiming the room was too dark and she was too scared to form a strong opinion of the mystery man's looks.

ava didn't recall moving to the center of her room, yet found herself standing directly beneath the chandelier, studying the intricate iron spirals, marveling at the tiny lens hidden inside.

"hello," she mouthed and tapped her nail against the glass.

she stepped to her nightstand, plucked her watch from the arms of the black-stained cross, and inspected the hands frozen at 9:35... the exact moment the doctors declared her dead.

how did he know the time? she wondered. how did he know she would appreciate such a lovely metaphor?

(ava should have been agonizing over the fact that her sister was the reason she'd been driving the night of the dance. the fact that she wasn't agonizing was another testament to the man underground.)

ava drifted to the living room and found her sister tethered to the kitchen wall, struggling to hammer a nail into the back door, and talking on the phone.

"i need to explain it in person," mia whispered (as if whispering would ensure her privacy). "i know it's storming but i'm scared and—" a pause. "i- i know you will. i know..."

the storm encompassed ava through half-boarded windows. lighting. wind. clicking debris. she closed her eyes and imagined the rain wasn't rain but MOONSHINE pouring from acid clouds. a single strike of a match would start a chain reaction, tiny tongues leaping drip to drip, igniting trees and clamoring for the clouds. orange pillars would engulf every bolt of lightning and billow in every direction until the liquor droplets became too sparse to ride. and when the flames did reach the clouds, the condensed vapor would flash-bang, blinding onlookers for miles and putting an end to the brimstone downpour.

"she's fine," mia continued. "i think... i don't know. it- it doesn't matter. did you get my texts?"

the ceiling creaked and ava tilted her head. she noticed the speakers, remembered their battles over music, and grinned.

"shit," mia said. "if they ever do go through, just ignore them, okay? come get me and i'll explain everything."

how many unintentional conversations had ava accidentally initiated? how many times had she attributed "happy accidents" to the supernatural?

"i don't need the police," mia continued. "i need you."

the bouquet was already wilting on the coffee table. ava noticed the envelope stuck between stems, plucked it out, and opened it. "ava, mom and dad are praying for you. you'll feel better soon."

she folded the note, creased it, and placed it on the table.

"i..." mia pinched the bridge of her nose. "i know you do." she shook her head. "okay. you're the best. yeah. see you- see you soon." she tossed her phone on the counter and turned. she was facing ava—practically staring right at her—but didn't seem to notice her presence.

ava stepped forward. "you couldn't say it back?"

mia shrieked. "my GOD, ave! where the hell did you—" she stopped. "wait, what?"

"he said he loved you. why didn't you say it back?"

"i—"

"i've heard you say it to a thousand boys. now that you actually mean it, you can't say it?"

"are you ready to get in the fucking car?"

ava shook her head.

"of course not." mia snatched the last three boards and crossed her sister on her way to the front door. "i see this killer new experience is helping you write."

ava glanced down to find her journal clenched in her hand. she didn't remember picking it up, nor did she remember writing a full page about the firestorm and the chandelier's eye...

"i'm SO glad you're able to find inspiration in the most fucked-up thing that has ever happened to us." mia jammed a board against the door as wind pelted it with forest debris. "help me? PLEASE?"

ava held the board while mia hammered.

"you look like you're sleepwalking," mi said. "how many pills did you take?"

"i haven't touched them in weeks."

"how are you so—" she dropped the nail. "shit." she picked it up, tried again, and muttered to herself, "please hurry, nolan..."

"you really think that was smart?" ava asked.

"what?"

"inviting a boy."

"i wasn't inviting him. i asked him to help us until you come to your fucking senses."

"what makes you think we need protection?" ava stepped around her sister. "haven't we been living comfortably since the day we moved in?" another step. a smirk. "if anyone needs protection... isn't it the boys?"

* * *

"we're getting in the car the second he gets here," mia said. "both of us."

ava shook her head.

"you're going," mia snapped.

"i'm not."

"then you are truly insane."

"why?"

"it's dangerous here!"

"not for me."

"that's sick." she wiped her forehead and sucked hot humidity from the air. "you are SICK."

"i want you to go," ava said. "when nolan gets here, tell him to bring you someplace safe."

mia's neck tightened. "that's not an option."

"then tell him not to come."

the dark implications of ava's threat finally sank in as mia finished the final board. the hammer slipped through her palm and crashed to the floor. i need to stop him. she bolted to the kitchen and grabbed her charger... but her phone was gone.

she patted her pockets. "where's my cell?" she muttered, gasping for air like a fish on sand. she traced her steps back to ava.

nothing.

"where's my FUCKING PHONE?"

"you're good at this," ava said, "calling people to rescue you when you don't actually need them."

"i don't even want to know what that means."

"it means you shouldn't have called nolan for help. and you shouldn't have called me."

"what? when?"

"a year ago. i was half asleep when my phone buzzed telling me you were sick at the dance."

mia's mind raced and tripped over every conceivable way ava could have learned the truth. "how—"

"you're the reason i died, mi. you're the reason i lost my inspiration... the reason our parents and friends look at me like i'm a broken vase they could fix if only they had all the pieces."

"ave, we need to warn nolan. we need to get in my car and—"

"the scar will never go away. i'll have to explain it to every guy i date for the rest of my life. and it's because of you."

the heat became unbearable. mia spun from her sister and stomped to the thermostat. it read 90 degrees.

she turned it until the display said 68, then—

69.

what?

70.

"ave? are you controlling it?"

"i don't have my phone."

75. 83. 90.

"what the hell?" mia grabbed the dial and cranked it back to 68.

73. 88. 101. MAX.

she backed away from the digital dial. in the laundry room, the furnace roared.

"ave..." she pleaded. "what's happening..." she spun around to find her sister motionless and staring across the living room. mia followed her gaze to the coffee table and a pink mason jar sitting dead center.

two timid steps and it became terrifyingly clear exactly why the jar was pink.

rhinestones.

her knees locked the moment she knew for certain; it was her phone, warped and fatty in a clear liquid tomb.

"he doesn't like you," ava said, her voice like one of those haunted puppets from the horror flicks they'd sneak as kids, but all mia could think was, he's inside! and the terror propelled her away from the jar and and into the kitchen and back and forth to the living room with fingers knotting her hair.

suddenly, music crashed against her eardrums; the loudest, sickest, blood-letting racket she'd ever heard pumping through the overhead speakers, besting the storm in volume and rage. mia clutched her ears but the screams rattled her brain.

she turned to the front door. ava was gone.

"where'd you go!" she yelled, but the music seized her heart and synced it to the hyper-neurotic bass.

i'll brave the storm, she thought. i'll drive to the road and flag nolan down. we'll go to the diner and i'll call the police and we'll come back and rescue—

three wooden planks were criss-crossing the front door.

no, no, no, no, no.

mia lunged at the middle board and yanked until her biceps buckled. "i'm sorry i lied!" she screamed. "i'm sorry i told you i was sick! please, ava! don't leave me alone with it!"

and the music played louder.