chapter fifteen

I’m still sitting in the sand, thinking about swimming under the sea and all the things I just shared with Lemon that I never thought I’d share with anyone, when a firework shoots into the sky and explodes in a riot of color over the ocean.

Peach yelps and covers her ears but then, when she sees what it is, turns around in my lap and leans back against my chest. She’s quiet, and I feel her sigh a deep, almost happy-sounding breath.

Without thinking, I mimic her, sucking in a lungful of air and letting it out nice and slow. There’s something there—a feeling like the wide-open sea. It’s not hollowing. Not exactly. More like there’s room inside me. Space.

I glance at Lemon, her face upturned toward the glittering sky, an almost-smile on her lips, eyes soft and full of sparklers.

“Happy birthday, Lemon,” I say.

She turns to me, the almost-smile flicking into a full smile, just for a second, but before she can respond, we hear a loud crash coming from the dark house behind us, like glass breaking. Lemon and I both startle, whipping to look over our shoulders at the same time and so fast, we bump heads.

“Ow,” I say, rubbing my forehead.

“Sorry,” Lemon says, rubbing hers.

“What was that?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” She stands up and turns toward the house, watching it like she’s expecting it to sprout legs and take off running. “It came from inside.”

“Maybe it was a firework,” I say hopefully, but we both turn back to look at the now-dark sky. “Okay, maybe not.” I set Peach on her feet and brush the sand off my shorts as I stand up too. “Could it be a raccoon or something, near the trash cans? There are trash cans somewhere, right?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been trash can hunting in a while,” Lemon says, rolling her eyes.

“Very funny. Well, maybe—”

But I never get to toss out another idea, because right then, a flash of light illuminates one of the house’s windows, then goes dark again.

“Okay, that was no raccoon,” Lemon says.

“Maybe it’s a glow-in-the-dark one,” I say, trying to joke, but my heart is pounding.

“A ghost!” Peach says, but with more excitement in her voice than fear. She bounces on her toes and stares with openmouthed wonder at the house.

“I think it’s time to go home,” I say.

“Go?” Lemon says. “Are you crazy?”

I make a face at her, but that’s when I notice her eyes are all lit up like they are whenever she talks about the Rose Maid.

“No,” I say. “No way we’re going in there.”

“But it’s the Lancaster House,” Lemon says, as though that explains everything. “It’s supposed to be haunted, and here’s proof!” She squats down in the sand and rummages through her tote bag, which I now notice has the words I BELIEVE printed on it with a sketch of a mermaid underneath.

Because of course it does.

She finally pulls out that sky-blue instant camera on its rainbow strap and loops it around her neck. “Let’s go,” she says, and starts toward the house.

I don’t budge. She pauses and looks back at me. “Seriously?”

“Very seriously.”

“Hazel, come on. For my birthday?”

I scowl at her. “Unfair.”

She grins, then clasps her hands to her chest and flutters her eyelashes. “Birthday wish.”

“Oh my god.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ve been in there before and it’s totally safe.”

“Um, yeah, but I doubt you went in there with a poltergeist flashing lights and breaking stuff.”

She twists up her mouth. “Okay, fine, we never saw or heard anything spooky in there, but I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Oh, if you’re sure.”

“Hazel.”

“Lemon.” I fold my arms over my chest to hide my shaking hands. “I’m sorry, but there’s no way I’m taking my sister into—”

I freeze.

I spin around, my heart immediately in my throat, blood rushing through my veins like white-water rapids.

“Peach,” I say, eyes peering through the dark for any glimpse. “Where did she go? Peach!”

Lemon looks around, frowning, then her eyes go wide on mine. She calls out Peach’s name too. Our voices echo against the quiet. Way down the beach, the party lights sparkle, but I don’t see my sister’s tiny form between here and there. There’s only silvery sand until it bleeds into firelight.

There’s only the ocean.

Panic rushes into my newly spacious heart, filling it all the way back up.

I run toward the water, right to the very edge, but I back up when the surf reaches out for me. “Peach!” But I can’t see her. Just a swath of dark. Just a hungry unknown world. I call her name again. Then again and again, because no, this can’t be happening, not again, not again, not—

Lemon grabs my arm and spins me around to face her.

“Hazel, she’s not out there.”

I yank my arm back, fear a firework in my chest, but Lemon just grabs on again.

“It’s okay,” she says, but all I can hear is water rushing in my ears, my hands reaching out for Mum and never finding her. Never, ever finding her.

“Hazel!” She grabs me by both arms now, shakes me. “Hazel, she went to the house.”

That pulls my eyes from the water to Lemon’s face. My breathing is louder than the waves, a storm in my chest. “What?”

Still keeping hold of me with one hand, she uses her free one to dig her phone out of her pocket. She turns on the flashlight and points it to the sand, then drifts it up toward the house. “See?”

I don’t. Not at first, but then, dotting the otherwise smooth, windblown sand leading up to the rocks, I see a set of tiny sneaker prints.

Peach prints.

They end at the wooden path that winds through the rocks and up toward the house’s huge porch. Another flash of light fills a window, a different one this time, then goes dark again.

I take off running.