I make it all the way to the edge of town before I realize where I’m going.

I’m leaving.

My feet push me down the dusty road that stretches past the mine. I don’t slow down when I see it, even though my head swims with vertigo and dream memories as I pass. All I can think of are my friends’ shocked expressions as I opened the blank books. The anger in Alicia’s eyes when she thought this entire thing was one big prank I was playing on them. I remember the way they looked at me when I tried to go deeper into the mansion, the same glazed expression as Mayor Couch had when I tried talking about the past.

I don’t know what is going on in Copper Hollow. Something is wrong here. Something to do with the mine and the family that lived in the mansion and this stupid doll.

Something is wrong, and I don’t want to have anything else to do with it.

So I keep running. Down the road and through the trees, their branches a rustling canopy above me. For some reason, I swear they sound like the laughter of the doll. I swear they’re mocking me.

I run until I can’t run anymore, until I’m out of breath and panting, one hand on my side and the other clutching the doll. I look ahead of me.

More forest. Just like behind.

Surely I should have hit something now? A highway or another road? I feel like I’ve been running for half an hour.

I look down at the doll.

“I’m going to get rid of you once and for all,” I mutter. I look ahead. I’m going to take the doll and throw it on the highway and watch as a car runs it over. Or I’ll toss it in the back of a truck and watch it drive away.

At least, I think there’s a highway out there. There has to be, right? I’ve never actually seen one …

I finally gather my breath and begin walking—quickly—in the direction of Copper Hollow’s only exit. Even if it takes all day, I’m getting out of here—and getting the doll out of here, too.

I keep expecting the sky to grow dark and crows to gather. Instead, the day stays cheery and hot, and after I’ve walked at least another twenty minutes I begin to think I should have brought water. I wonder if maybe I’ve made the wrong decision. Shouldn’t there be cars? Shouldn’t there be someone passing by?

But there’s no one.

What if I get lost out here? Worse, what if my friends are back home looking for me? What if they think I’m hurt?

What if my mom is worried?

For some reason, I think of my dad.

He left down this very road, and he never came back.

Did my mom worry about him when he left? Did he do it to find a better job so we could live a better life? Or did he abandon us?

My mom’s never told me, and I’ve always been too scared to ask more. I don’t want to upset her.

I wonder what he found down this road. The thought excites me, that I’ll see what he saw. If only for a moment. Right before I toss the doll away and get her out of my life for good.

I keep walking.

The road twists. I can’t see what lies beyond, and that makes me walk faster.

There has to be a highway out there. I’m almost free of the doll. She’s almost out of Copper Hollow.

I turn the corner

and my heart drops.

I haven’t escaped.

The road has led me straight back to the mansion.