Wednesday night was Halloween. Wunder stayed in his room, listening to the doorbell rings and knocks as children came for their tricks and treats. His father had asked him if he wanted to help pass out candy, but he had said no.
Then, after one of the knocks, his bedroom door opened. His father was standing there. And behind him were Davy and Faye.
Davy was wearing his rock costume again. There were holes in the trash bag with pieces of newspaper sticking through.
Faye wasn’t dressed as the witch. She had on her cloak with the black dress she had worn to the funeral underneath. Her face was expressionless as usual, but Wunder knew that she was not serene.
“You’re not allowed to go out, Wunder,” his father said, “but I thought you could use some company.”
He left the door open, but Faye shut it firmly after him.
“Your room is very spartan,” she said.
“What happened to your pictures?” Davy asked. “And your books and your statues? You got rid of everything?”
“Except that,” Faye said. She pointed a gloved hand to the corner of the room. To the crib. “Why is that still in here? That’s awful.”
Wunder wanted them to leave. He got up from his bed. “Why are you here? You heard my dad. I can’t go trick-or-treating.”
“Wundie,” Faye said. “We’re not here about candy collecting. We know you’ve been avoiding us because the police took the branch, but we’re not mad. We understand. What were you going to do, fight the hair-flipper’s dad? But listen. You need to go see the witch. She’s been asking about you.”
“She’s not a witch,” Wunder replied.
“I know,” Faye said. “She’s not. I know who she is. And you do too.”
“An old woman,” Wunder said.
“Who she really is.”
“Probably a con artist. Or a lunatic.”
“What are you talking about?” Faye said. “Her name is Milagros.” She held up one finger. “She showed up the day after your sister died.” Another finger.
“She looks like your sister!” Davy said. “Well, like the picture I saw in the paper. Her eyes or something.”
“And she asked David all those questions about you,” Faye continued. “She had you deliver the letters, get the tree branch. And she—”
“The witch is not my sister!” Wunder yelled, angry that they were making him say those words, angry that they were making him even think them. “How could she be my sister? It doesn’t make any sense!”
“It’s a miracle, Wundie,” Faye said. “It doesn’t have to make sense.”
Wunder shook his head. “She was using us. She was trying to see what we would do for her!”
“Now you don’t make sense,” Faye said.
“Officer Soto said that tree we chopped up is really rare,” Wunder told her.
“Yeah, she told us that,” Faye said.
“Rare and expensive. She just wanted to sell it!”
Davy gnawed nervously on his bottom lip. Faye stared at Wunder, her face completely still, like she had been frozen. Shocked, Wunder thought. As shocked as he had been.
But he was wrong.
“Are you crazy?” Faye’s words exploded, high and sharp and loud. “That’s what you think? You think she was trying to run some kind of—of botanical-theft ring? That’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous!” Wunder found himself shouting back. “It’s the most rational explanation!”
“So what?” Faye shoved her bangs from her face. She pinned them up with fast-fingered fury. “I can’t believe you’re still not convinced! You really think everything that’s happened is a coincidence? What about the spirals? What about the letters? Why would she tell everyone to come to Branch Hill?”
“Officer Soto said she’s been inviting other people into the DoorWay House,” Wunder said. “Other funeral-goers. She’s probably asking them to steal things for her too. Or asking for money. Or maybe she’s”—he struggled to think of another reason, a non-miraculous reason—“starting a cult.”
Faye pulled her hood up. She glared at him from the shadows of its peak. “You don’t believe that.”
“Why not?” Wunder cried. “What has she actually done? She hasn’t done anything for me! She’s a—she’s a fake!”
“I don’t think that can be true.” Davy spoke up for the first time. “When we were in her house—” He was quiet for a moment. “When my mom was sick—really sick—I would go in her room late at night sometimes. And you know we’re not—we’re not very religious or anything. But I would feel something in the room. Something that would make me feel better. And I felt that in the house. In the DoorWay House.”
“It’s what we wanted to feel,” Wunder said. “That’s what everything has been. She’s not what we thought she was. That’s just who we wanted her to be, who I wanted her to be.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not going to see her. I never want to see her again.”
“Well, just because you’re not going back doesn’t mean Davy and I have to stop!” Faye said. “If you’re not going to believe in your miracle, that’s fine. Maybe there will be one for me! Do you even remember my grandfather?”
Wunder stared at her. “What do you mean? I never met your grandfather.”
“Do you remember that he died? That I was close to him? That I’ve been”—she pulled her hood down even farther, covering her eyes, before continuing—“that I’ve been sad since he died?”
“I did know that,” Wunder said. “And I’m sorry. But he was old! He lived a long time! He was—”
“He wasn’t old!” Faye screamed, shoving her hood back. “He was fifty-nine! He was young! He was really young to die. And he knew there were miracles at the DoorWay House. He saw the spirals spinning, just like you did, and he knew about the shadows I saw there. He would have believed that Milagros is a miracle, and I do too! She said she was going to help everyone who had lost someone. She said she was going to help me! And she’s going to, I know she’s going to!”
Wunder was too angry to feel bad about what he’d said. He was too angry to do anything except yell back, “She can’t help anyone! It’s all lies!”
Faye glared at him. Then she swung her cloak around herself. “Here you go again, Wunder,” she said. “Something bad happened, so now you don’t believe in anything anymore, right? Well, not me. I’m going to find my miracle. I’m not afraid of the dark.”
She strode from the room. Davy stayed, biting his lip and looking torn and miserable.
“Milagros said to tell you that when you’re ready, she’ll be there,” he said softly.
Wunder’s backpack was next to his bed. He grabbed The Miraculous out of it. “Take this to her,” he said. Then he threw the book at Davy.
Davy stepped out of the way just in time. Then he picked the book up and left.
And the stone of Wunder’s heart felt colder than it ever had, heavier than it ever had.
And empty too. His heart was empty.