I never got over that nightmare.

I tried telling Mrs. Harmon about it, but she insisted that I was still grieving my parents' deaths. As if that explained everything.

As the weeks passed, Caleb and Mr. Harmon grew close.

Really close.

Meanwhile, Caleb, Mrs. Harmon, and I seemed to grow more distant from one another. Mr. Harmon rarely spoke to me beyond the occasional "Hey" or "How are you?" Mrs. Harmon seemed annoyed with me most of the time.

As for Caleb, I couldn't understand why he barely spoke to me anymore. He didn't say hello or goodbye. He treated the Harmons as if they were his best friends.

I tried not to dwell on it.

After all, Mrs. Harmon had bought me a phone and a laptop a few days earlier. She had even gotten Abby's phone number for me. That helped with the loneliness, at least a little.

Abby and I texted from time to time, but she never replied very quickly. Our conversations felt dull and forced.

Nothing like they used to be.

Everyone seemed happier without me, and I was left alone with my misery.

It had been two months since Caleb and I moved in with the Harmons, and not much had changed.

Every day felt the same.

The only difference was that Mr. and Mrs. Harmon had started arguing more often.

Why?

I had no idea.

I was bored out of my mind. Besides Abby, I had no one to talk to.

Whenever I went outside, I found myself staring at the abandoned house in the distance—the one Caleb and I had noticed when we first arrived.

Every time I saw it, I thought about exploring it.

It looked kind of cool.

One afternoon, I was sitting in the garden when I heard a noise behind me.

I turned around and nearly jumped.

Rose.

She was watering the flowers as if she belonged there.

"How are you, dear?" she asked without looking at me.

I stood up.

"I'm fine," I replied.

At first, I started walking back toward the house. I figured I should tell Mrs. Harmon that Rose was here.

Then I changed my mind.

There were things I wanted to ask.

I turned around and walked back to her.

"Can I ask you something?" I said.

She continued watering the flowers.

"Of course."

"Do you know why that house down there is abandoned?" I asked.

Rose smiled faintly.

"I'm surprised they never told you. That was Mr. Harmon's first home. He lived there when he was a child with his parents."

"Really?" I asked. "It looks awful now."

"Well, there was an accident." She paused. "His parents died there. They were murdered, to be exact."

My stomach tightened.

"How?"

"I don't know. No one really does." She finally looked at me. "But Mr. Harmon survived."

Silence settled between us.

I hesitated before asking my next question.

"When you worked here, did anything ever seem... odd?"

Rose chuckled.

"'Worked,' huh? I suppose they told you they fired me?"

I scratched the back of my head and forced a smile.

"Yeah. They did."

"Oh."

Rose set down the watering can and stared at me. "Things aren't always what they seem around here, Emily."

A chill ran through me.

"I hope you're smart enough to tell the difference between good and evil."

The words hit me harder than I expected. "What do you mean?" I asked nervously. "Should I be worried?"

Before she could answer, the back door opened.

Mr. Harmon stepped outside.

Instinctively, I started walking away from Rose. The last thing I wanted was to get into trouble for talking to her.

Rose didn't answer my question.

Instead, she stared at me.

Her eyes seemed colder than before.

"You don't have much time," she said as she stood up. Then she turned and walked away. "Get away. Far away. And never look back."

I stood frozen, watching her disappear into the distance.

What made it stranger was that Mr. Harmon never reacted.

Even though he had been looking directly in our direction, it was as if he hadn't seen Rose at all.

He stopped walking. Placed his hands on his hips. Stared at me for a few moments. Then turned around and went back inside.

I stayed in the garden for a long time after that.

I couldn't stop thinking about what Rose had said.

You don't have much time.

What was that supposed to mean? Not much time for what? The longer I stayed there, the more uneasy I felt. I didn't want to be here anymore.

I wanted a police car to pull into the driveway and tell us that our grandmother had changed her mind and wanted us.

But I knew that wasn't going to happen. The garden suddenly felt oppressive. Like something was watching me. That's when I made a decision.

I would explore.

Not the mansion.

Not the garden.

Mr. Harmon's old house.

I was sure he wouldn't care. Nobody lived nearby, and no one would even know I was there. At least, that's what I thought. Little did I know, I was walking straight into trouble.

The kind of trouble that was far beyond anything I could have imagined.