“If you had gone away, I wouldn’t have to do this.” Britney sounded like a little girl about to punish her dollies, furious but also gleeful. “But now you’re here, and I want you to play with me. We could swim again. Did you like swimming with me?”
Lily’s brain was going a mile a minute. She had to figure out a way to escape. But where could she hide? This was Britney’s world, not hers. This wasn’t even her own nightmare. Then she had an idea. She reached up to feel around in the recliner, and there it was. Buddy’s collar. She wrapped her fist around the jingling tags to silence them and threw the collar across the room, aiming for the hall that led to what was now her parents’ bedroom.
Just as she’d hoped, the thing that was Britney lumbered in that direction, panting like an animal, each breath wet and desperate. Lily heard the sound of knees hitting the boards and fingernails scrabbling for their prize. While Britney was occupied with the old collar, Lily found the wall with her hand and scuttled along it toward the open door. She slipped outside, her back against the side of the house, and stood.
The moon lit the yard in tones of black and white. She had to get away, but every direction held its own dangers. To the left was the swamp, where she had encountered the snake and the pitcher plants that seemed full of blood. To the right was the caged pool filled with water that was black and murky. Straight ahead was the dock and the lake, the place where Brian had found Britney’s body. Old ribbons of yellow caution tape floated in the nonexistent wind, torn and trembling, and wet footsteps glistened on the dock.
So Lily ran in a new direction, her bare feet stung by gravel and bits of shell and sticks. She ran toward the road. Branches and leaves plucked at her nightshirt, and strange noises echoed through the darkness, animalistic screams and howls. Soon she heard footsteps pounding on the gravel behind her. She sped up. The road had to be close, and surely there would be cars there, people going about their lives who could help her. She stumbled past the mailbox and onto the cracked black asphalt.
There were no lights, no cars. She could not hear engines or voices. She could not see the neighbors’ houses. Over the roar of the Florida night, she heard only wet footsteps coming closer and closer, steady stomps sending the gravel flying.
This had to be a dream. In real life, there were always cars, motorcycles, streetlights, houses with warmly lit windows. So she did what had worked in the past: She screamed and screamed and screamed until it shredded her throat. She screamed so loud that she couldn’t hear the footsteps or the howls or the hum of the night creatures. The whole world became a scream.
She felt a hand land on her shoulder.
“Lily!”
She opened her eyes. There was her mother in her pajamas, looking concerned, backlit by the hall light.
“Honey, are you okay? You were screaming again.”
Lily sat up. Her mouth tasted like she’d been drinking from the swamp, and her hands and feet were prickly and numb. The dream had felt so real. She’d been so sure that Britney was about to reach out and touch her, but here she was in bed under her covers, where everything was totally normal. For now. She cleared her throat.
“Nightmares,” she croaked. Her voice was scratchy from the screaming.
Mom reached out to caress her head. “Do we need to take you to a doctor?”
Lily snorted. “Who do you see for this? It’s just nightmares.” And if I told you what my nightmares were about, you would call me melodramatic and then have me committed, she thought. Not that we have the money for that anyway.
“There are medications…”
But Lily shook her head. It wouldn’t help. What if they made her stay asleep next time instead of screaming herself awake?
“No.”
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”
Lily was breathing a sigh of relief and about to tell her yes when her father shouted from downstairs, “What’s the little drama queen’s problem now?”
Lily’s mom sighed, and Lily hung her head. He hadn’t shouted like that in a while, and it made her scared in a different way. When she was little and had nightmares, he’d been so kind and patient. But ever since Colorado, he hadn’t had any comfort to offer her. Lily felt a wash of guilt, her shoulders hunching up. He just saw her as the thing that annoyed him at night, not as someone who needed help. At least Brian had liked Britney and had wanted to help her.
“I’ll be okay,” Lily lied.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure.”
Because what other answer was there? It’s not like the ghosts were limited to her room, and it’s not like her mom could drive them away forever. Rachel’s presence hadn’t stopped Britney, after all. Lily shivered and snuggled more firmly under her covers to show her mom that she would be okay. She’d rather face ghosts than her dad being as angry as he was back in Colorado, the night she’d taken the drama too far.
Once her mom was back downstairs, Lily turned on her light and picked up a book. She stayed up all night, and as soon as the sun rose, she finally gave in to her fatigue. The moment her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep. This time, she didn’t dream. Or if she did, she forgot all about it.
When she woke up in the afternoon, her knees were black with dust and her feet were sandy and covered in tiny cuts. This time, she wasn’t surprised. With a strange sort of calm, she swept the gravel out of her sheets and dumped it in the bathroom trash can.
Lily knew only one thing for certain: She had to figure out how to give Britney what she wanted, or Britney was going to get rid of her permanently.
26.
When Lily emerged from the shower after washing all the nightmare grime down the drain, she found her mom in the kitchen. Oddly, Mom seemed peppy and refreshed. Almost perky. It was like she’d completely forgotten the screaming incident last night.
“Good news!” Mom nearly sang. “Tomorrow’s the big day. They found the storage container, and it arrives in the morning! And the dumpster leaves the next day. It’s perfect.” She put her hands on her hips and looked around the kitchen brightly. “This place will finally start to feel like a home. Like it’s ours.”
Lily shivered a little. Could it ever be ours when Britney thought of it as mine?
No matter how terrible it was, Lily had to accept that she was stuck here. Short of some kind of natural disaster, this was her life now. She just felt so helpless. Awake, asleep—she never felt safe. She couldn’t even invite a friend over without them ending up in the hospital. And then unfriending her.
She didn’t want to just wait around anymore. She had to figure out how to make peace with Britney. She had to give Britney what she wanted, which meant that she needed to know more—about Britney’s life, and about her death.
Lily ate her cereal, only half listening to her mom prattling on about how great everything was. When she was done eating, she put on sneakers and went outside. Maybe seeing this place through Britney’s eyes would help. First she went to the old pool, staring down into the green-black depths. Her dreams had brought her here, first in beautiful visions and then nearly killing her with grim reality. This place was important to Britney, a place where she’d been happy. But now it was abandoned and forgotten. If Britney wanted it, she could have it. There was nothing left of any value.
Next Lily brought some ham from the kitchen and went out toward the forest, calling for Buddy. Without his collar, she couldn’t hear a jingle, and no matter how many times she whistled, he didn’t show up. Shame stung her heart; she hadn’t meant to kick him, but even he didn’t believe her. Britney had mentioned Buddy multiple times. He’d meant a lot to her, and Britney was jealous that Lily kept playing with the dog she saw as still hers. If Buddy had shown up, Lily would’ve followed him into the woods to see where he’d been hiding and if maybe there were any clues to Britney’s past there, but without him, she would just be wa
ndering aimlessly in a dangerous place. Buddy had once comforted Britney, but now he comforted Lily, too.
As much as she didn’t want to, she went to the dock next. She couldn’t help picturing the scene Brian had described, the tragedy that had brought yellow caution tape to the pulpy gray boards and cemented Brian’s own future. There wasn’t much to see, just the same old boat and oars and the deceptively calm surface.
“What happened, Britney?” she said out loud. “Why did you drown?”
Lily half expected to feel cold hands shoving her into the water, but nothing touched her. There were no answers here. As soon as she backed onto the grass, she felt just a little bit safer, more solid. Looking toward the house, she wished Buddy hadn’t taken the keys. Maybe there was something that would help her hidden behind the locked door under the stairs. But even though she searched all around the area where Buddy usually appeared, she didn’t find them.
As Lily headed up to her room, she tried to think back to everything she’d tossed out when she’d cleaned the spare room, trying to recall if there might be any clues to why Britney had died. But most of it just seemed like relics from Brian’s life before Britney. She hadn’t seen any photos of Britney at all—
Wait.
Except she had, that first night, hadn’t she? In the toilet. Photos of a little girl and a woman—probably her mother—their faces burned or scratched away. But those photos were in the bottom of the dumpster now, and surely the rain had utterly destroyed them.
In her room, she sat on her bed and looked around. It still felt like Britney’s room, right down to the canvases on the walls. She took them off their nails and looked behind them, seeing if maybe Britney had hidden something there—more strange words, a key. Nothing. But Britney had written MINE on the bed. Did she want the bed back? She’d tossed it apart twice at least. She could have it, if that was what she wanted. As soon as the storage container arrived, Lily would be sleeping in her own bed again.
But it couldn’t just be the bed. Britney hadn’t mentioned it. Whatever she wanted had to be more personal.
Lily pulled down every book left on the shelf, checked the inside covers, and flipped through the pages. There was nothing of use, just Britney’s name scrawled in the books that had been read the most. None of the books were underlined or highlighted or held any mementos. Several of the books were gone, and Lily had no idea why. She thought back to what the room had looked like when she’d first arrived. The dead snake was in the dumpster. The drawers of clothes and the junk from the closet didn’t seem important.
And then, all of a sudden, Lily knew what it was that Britney wanted so badly, what she needed to find peace.
Lily only hoped it wasn’t too late.
27.
Of course, it wasn’t going to be easy.
The storage container was arriving tomorrow, and Lily’s mom needed her help getting everything ready. There was still trash that needed to go out, plus the grungy patio furniture and all the old clothes hanging in a few closets downstairs. With every load Lily threw away, her heart sank a little more. The thing she needed—her only hope for solving all her problems—was in the bottom of the dumpster. But every time she tried to climb the metal ladder up the dumpster’s side, her mom called her away to do more chores. And there was no way she could explain to her mom that her goal was to get in the dumpster…and throw everything out again.
It was evening by the time her mom was satisfied that they were ready to bid the dumpster farewell. Lily was exhausted, filthy, and nervous. Sure, the days were long now, but the last thing she wanted was to be in that dumpster in the dark, alone at night.
“Why don’t you guys go out to celebrate?” she said as her mom got dressed to pick up Dad at work. “You haven’t been out in forever.”
Her mom cocked her head and smiled like such a thing had never occurred to her. “But don’t you want to celebrate, too? You’ve earned it. You’ve worked so hard to help me, and I know it hasn’t been an easy move. And I can tell that you’ve tried to reduce the drama. I’ve noticed a real change in you, honey.”
Lily forced herself to smile. It wasn’t a change she’d meant to make at all. She hadn’t really grown more normal and well-behaved; she was just anxious and scared. “Maybe bring me home some fast food? I’m too tired to act fancy. But you guys could go somewhere nice. You look like you need a steak.”
Her mom started texting her dad, and when she put on her lipstick and mascara, Lily exhaled a sigh of relief. The moment the car was out of sight, she put on jeans and sneakers and grabbed her dad’s small but powerful flashlight. She went out into the driveway and stared at the big metal box that she’d spent so much time filling up. She didn’t have long, but now she had to get past all that junk, down to the very bottom. And it wasn’t going to be fun. At least her fingertips had healed.
The metal rungs on the dumpster were rough and hurt her hands, but she climbed up and stared down at all the garbage inside, trying to plan the best approach. She remembered tossing the first few black bags onto the far side, which at least meant she might not have to move hundreds of pounds of cardboard boxes out of the way. She slung a leg over the metal edge and took a deep breath. There was no ladder on the inside. Whether or not she found what she was looking for, climbing back out was not going to be easy.
She shook her head and climbed back down to the gravel. There was an old wooden ladder in the garage, so she fetched it and dragged it over. It took all her strength to lift it up over the dumpster’s edge and let it topple onto the stack of boxes, but at least now she had a chance of getting out again. Her parents were going to be mad no matter what, but it would be better if they didn’t find her stuck and screaming for help inside a half-emptied dumpster.
This time, as Lily perched on the edge of the big metal box, six feet off the ground, the sun was just beginning to set. She was terrified but determined. If she was right, maybe Britney would leave her alone for good and she could try to have a normal life here. If she was wrong…well, the best-case scenario was getting found in a dumpster, covered in garbage, by parents who already thought she was the world’s biggest drama queen. The worst-case scenario was either being killed by a ghost or being crushed by garbage and becoming a ghost herself. Lily tried not to think too hard about the worst-case scenarios. She had to do this, so she would do it.
She had never considered herself a particularly brave person, but she knew well enough by now how to act brave. The very first time she’d gone onstage, she’d been so scared she’d almost chickened out, but she’d since learned to love that thrill of excitement in her belly, the way her eyes felt too bright and her feet felt cold right before she stepped into the heat of the lights.
Looking down into the depths of the dumpster, she reminded herself of Miss Cora’s words. This was just like stage fright. The only way to deal with real fright was to feel the fear and do it anyway.
There were no bright stage lights here, only the bare bulb on the side of the house that wouldn’t turn on anymore, but still Lily stepped down onto the stack of folded cardboard boxes like she had an audience watching her every move. She was tough and strong. She was Angelica and she was Puck and she was Ariel and she was Veronica and she was Cady and she was Lydia and she was as agile as any cat in Cats.
Or not.
The moment her foot hit the top cardboard box, she slipped and fell. It was mushy and slick with rain, and she scrambled to slide to the far side so that she’d at least be near her goal. It was awful, tumbling and landing in a damp pile of black garbage bags. She couldn’t tell what was in each one, but she could feel sharp bits and hard bits and mushy bits, and the smell made her want to throw up. They’d been throwing their own garbage in here, too.
She found her footing, grabbed the nearest bag, and heaved it up and over the side of the dumpster. Then another. Then another. They were heavy an
d wet and covered in leaves and grime, and it was apparently a lot easier putting things in than taking things out. Each time a bag landed on the ground outside, Lily couldn’t help wincing; she was going to have to toss them back in or face her angry parents. But she couldn’t let that stop her. Even as her arms burned and her legs ached, she kept on tossing things out of the dumpster, aiming to reach the floor of the far corner. She sang “Yo Girl” from Heathers, imagining an audience of ghosts cheering her on, helping her avoid the true danger. It didn’t really work, but it felt good to sing.
With each bag or box, she felt less fear and a little bit more hope. It was just work, she told herself—not impossible. It was difficult and gross, but it wasn’t as bad as the black water of the pool or the thick boggy ground of the swamp, and she’d gotten through those, hadn’t she? At one point, she stopped to stare at a trio of sandhill cranes flying into the brilliant sunset overhead, and it crossed her mind that if she wasn’t being haunted, she might actually enjoy living here. But as the last bit of light faded away, she realized that she had to hurry even more. Her parents could be home at any time, and they would want answers.
Of course, Britney could show up anytime, too.
Lily pulled the flashlight out of her pocket and flicked it on. It wasn’t fun, holding it in her mouth as she dug through the garbage bags, but it was better than being alone in complete darkness, which is what would happen soon. It was almost like the sun could sense her unease, as the sunset seemed to hold on for a long moment, the sky a gentle purple-gray that ever so slowly faded away to indigo.
And then full night fell like a velvet curtain.
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