CHAPTER 13

In the dark, Lake Specter lived up to its name, Molly thought.

At night, the lake was legit deep and creep: The dappled sunlight was replaced by the ominous, broken reflection of the crescent moon flickering on the water’s surface, the sweet lily pads now slick black holes. If Lake Specter looked like a fairy tale during the day, at night it looked like the opening scene of a nightmare.

Molly wasn’t the only one with a bit of the creeps.

“Is it me,” April asked, “or are there like three . . . four unexplained creaks happening in this cabin right now?”

Jo looked up at the gaps between the ceiling beams. “I think it’s the wind. But I could be wrong. But I’m hoping I’m not.”

Ripley wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s cold!”

Mal looked at Molly, whose eyes seemed to be following some invisible thing around the room. “What are you looking at?”

“I don’t know,” Molly whispered. “I just felt something?”

“Is it a snoring raccoon on your head?” Mal asked.

Molly shook her head slowly. “That feeling I know. This is something else.”

Just then, Mal felt what seemed like a tap on her back. Like someone had thrown a Cheeto at her.

Of course, no one had.

Jo pulled her flashlight out of one of her many pockets and pointed it into the darker corners of the cabin. The light grazed the soft gray surfaces, falling on nothing that looked suspicious to Jo. “Well, it’s NIGHT now.”

“Ghosts come out,” Ripley whispered.

“Okay.” April stood up. “It is REALLY cold.”

The chill wasn’t just cold, it was otherworldly. Unnatural. Like someone or something had dropped a giant ice cube into the cabin. Ripley shivered and pulled her sleeves down over her arms. Bubbles chirped and wrapped himself around Molly’s neck.

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Jo, Mal, and Molly scrambled to their feet.

“Did you hear that?” Molly whispered.

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Ripley popped up and onto Jo’s back. “I heard that.”

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“Me too,” Jo and April said together.

“Okay.” Mal spun around. “Whoever that is, come out.”

A shrill whistle. A whisper that bled into a shout.

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