Hanna brushed a couple of dead leaves off one of the outdoor chairs and plopped down. “I missed you guys.”
“No, you didn’t.” Spencer pointed at her drunkenly. “You had Mona.”
They all fell silent, ruminating on what Mona had done to all of them. Emily felt a lump in her throat as she watched Hanna wince and turn away. It was bad enough that Mona had tormented Emily, but Mona had been Hanna’s best friend.
Emily stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Hanna. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Spencer moved in next, and then Aria. “She was insane,” Spencer murmured.
“I should have never lost touch with you guys,” Hanna mumbled into Spencer’s shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Emily cried, petting Hanna’s long, silky hair. “You have us now.”
They remained that way until the song petered out into silence. The hot tub groaned. A loud thump sounded from inside the house. Spencer looked up, her brow furrowing. “Ali sure is taking a long time to change.”
Everyone wrapped their towels around their shoulders and went inside. They moved through the living room and into the kitchen. “Ali?” Hanna called. No answer. Emily poked her head into the bathroom from which she’d just emerged. Water dripped from the faucet. The heat from the vent made the tail of the toilet paper roll float in the air.
“Ali?” Aria called into the formal sitting room. Sheets had been draped over the chairs, making them look like lumpish ghosts. Everyone stood stock-still, listening.
Spencer paused in the kitchen. “Maybe I shouldn’t be bringing this up now, but my mom called earlier. My sister is still missing….”
“What?” Emily stopped next to the stove.
“What if she followed us?” Spencer’s voice wobbled. “What if she’s here?”
“She can’t be.” Hanna took a fortifying swig of her cocktail. “Spencer, there’s no way.”
Spencer pulled her sweater over her head and padded toward the door that led to the side yard. Emily grabbed her sweatshirt and jeans, pulled them on, and followed. The old, rusty side door creaked as it opened. The sky was bright with stars. The only other light was a single golden beam from the garage. The black BMW was parked in the driveway. Emily’s eyes flickered back and forth, searching desperately for a shifting shadow. She pulled out her phone, wondering if they should call someone. Her screen said No Service Available. Everyone else looked at their phones, too, and shook their heads. They were all out of range.
Emily shivered. This can’t be happening. Not again. What if they’d been on the sun porch, having a great time, and something awful had happened to Ali? It was like a repeat of seventh grade: For minutes they’d sat in the barn, dumbly hypnotized, while a girl had been murdered.
“Ali!” Emily cried out. The name echoed into the night. “Ali!” she called again.
“What?” came a voice.
Everyone whipped around. Ali was standing in the kitchen doorway, still dressed in her jeans and cashmere hoodie. She was looking at them like they were crazy.
“Where have you guys been?” Ali laughed. “I just went to check the temperature in the hot tub, and I couldn’t find you anywhere!” She pretended to wipe sweat from her brow. “I was so scared!”
Emily walked back into the house, breathing a long sigh of relief. But as Ali held the door for her, giving her a huge, bright smile, Emily heard a branch snap from behind. She froze and glanced over her shoulder, certain she would see a pair of eyes gazing at her from the dense woods.
But everything was still and quiet. There was no one.
28 WHAT DREAMS MAY COME
Spencer and the others followed Ali back into the house. “The hot tub is way too cold,” Ali decided. “But there are lots of other things to do.”
Spencer plopped her unused bath towel on the kitchen table, walked into the living room, and sat down on the leather couch. Her skin felt numb, both from the cold and the scare that something might have happened to Ali. An uneasy feeling nagged at her, too, one she couldn’t quite describe. How had Ali not heard them when they were calling for her? How had they not seen her go into the porch and test the water of the hot tub? What was that thump they’d heard inside the house? And where was Melissa, anyway?
The other girls gathered around the room. Ali sat in the wicker wing chair they used to call “The Duchess Chair”: whichever girl they deemed the “Duchess” got to sit in the chair and make the others do whatever she wanted for the entire day. Hanna sat on the old yellow beanbag near the TV. Emily perched cross-legged on the leather ottoman by the couch, absently poking her finger into a tiny hole in the upholstery. Aria sat on the couch next to Spencer and pulled a cherry-blossom-printed satin pillow into her chest.
Ali curled her hands around the Duchess Chair’s twisted, twiggy arms and took a big breath. “So. Now that the hot tub idea is a bust, I have a proposition for you.”
“What?” Spencer asked.
Ali shifted her weight, making the wicker creak. “Since our last sleepover went so badly, I think we should wipe it out of our minds for good. I’d like to re-create it. Minus a couple of details, of course.”
“Like you disappearing?” Emily said.
“Naturally.” Ali twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “And, well, for it to be accurate, I’ll have to hypnotize you.”
Spencer’s skin went cold. Emily lowered her glass to the table. Hanna froze, a handful of Cheez-Its halfway to her mouth. “Uh…” Aria started.
Ali cocked an eyebrow. “When I was in the hospital, they made me go to all these therapists. One of them told me that the best way to get over a terrible memory is to reenact it. I really think it will help me….” She sighed. “Maybe it will help all of us.”
Spencer rubbed her feet together, trying to warm them up. A sudden wind whistled outside. She stared again at the photo of them next to the canoe. Reenacting the hypnosis sounded awful, but maybe Ali was right. After everything they’d been through, maybe they needed to do something to get past it, once and for all. “I’m game,” she decided.
“Yeah, I guess I’m in, too,” Emily decided.
“Sure,” Hanna said.
Ali looked hopefully at Aria, and Aria nodded reluctantly. “Thank you.” Ali jumped to her feet. “Let’s do it in the upstairs bedroom, though. It’s more intimate. More like the barn was.”
They followed her up the pink-carpeted stairs to the second level. A huge, pale moon shone through the circular window on the landing. The yard was empty, the pine trees forming a thick barrier between the house and the road. There was a man-made pond off to the left, though it had been drained for the winter. Now it was merely a dry, deep ditch.
Ali led them to the back bedroom. The door was already ajar, as if someone had been in here recently. Spencer remembered the cross-stitch sampler on the wall, the Queen Anne’s lace curtains, and the twin brass beds. Her nose twitched. She’d expected the room to be redolent with lilac-scented air freshener and maybe mildew, but there was a rotting, curdling odor instead. “What’s that smell?” she cried.
Ali wrinkled her nose, too. “Maybe there’s something dead inside the walls. Remember when that happened the summer between sixth and seventh grades? I think it was a raccoon.”
Spencer racked her brain, but she didn’t remember smelling anything remotely like this before.
Then Aria froze. “Did you hear that?”
Everyone tensed, listening. “No…” Spencer whispered.