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  at all. For a moment Helen wondered if she was starting to crack

  up. She decided not to go up to check. She’d seen enough ghosts

  already that day.

  The next morning, Helen went to see Dr. Cunningham. After a few

  minutes of flashing a penlight in her eyes and thumping her on the

  chest, Dr. Cunningham told her father that there didn’t seem to be

  any permanent damage done. Then he yelled at Helen and told her

  she was far too fair to be walking around without a hat on. She

  didn’t know how it had happened, but after one trip to the doctor

  her meltdown had been brushed off as nothing more than the carelessness

  of not keeping her head covered. At least the checkup got

  her out of school for the day.

  When she got home, Helen opened her computer and spent a few

  frustrating hours online trying to find some information on the

  three women who were plaguing her. Every search she did overwhelmed

  her with so many possibilities that her task seemed hopeless,

  and she couldn’t narrow it down because she didn’t have any

  real context for what it was she had seen. Were they ghosts? Demons?

  Or just her own personal manifestations of crazy? It was entirely

  possible that she had hallucinated the whole thing, and now

  that she didn’t feel so enraged she was almost starting to think

  maybe she had had heatstroke. Almost.

  Claire came over in the afternoon to deliver some bad news. “The

  whole school thinks you’re on your way to an institution as we

  speak,” she said as soon as they sat down in the family room. “You

  should’ve come in today.”

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  “Why?” Helen asked with a grimace. “It doesn’t matter when I

  come back, no one’s ever going to forget this.”

  “True. It was pretty bad,” Claire said. She paused for a moment

  before speaking in a rush. “You scared the crap of me, you know.”

  “Sorry,” Helen apologized with a weak smile. “So, was he in

  school today?” For some reason she felt like she just had to know,

  but she couldn’t bring herself to say his name out loud.

  “Yeah. He asked me about you. Well, he didn’t actually talk to

  me, but Jason did. He’s a jackass, by the way.” Claire started talking

  with increasing heat. “Get this. So he comes up to me at lunch,

  right? And he starts asking me all these questions about you. Like,

  how long have I known you, where are you from, did I ever meet

  your mom before she skipped town . . .”

  “My mom? That’s weird,” Helen interrupted.

  “And I start answering him with my usual flair for clever repartee,”

  Claire said, a bit too innocently.

  “Translation: you insulted him.”

  “Whatever. Then that chump had the huevos to call me ‘little

  girl’! Can you believe it?”

  “Imagine. You, described as ‘little,’” Helen said in a droll voice.

  “So what did you tell him?”

  “The truth. That we’ve been friends since birth and neither of us

  really remembers your mom, and that she didn’t leave any pictures

  or anything, but that your dad’s always going on about how she

  was this incredible beauty and how she was so smart and talented

  and everything, and blah-blah-blah. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist

  to figure out that your mom had to be hot. I mean, look at your

  dad and then look at you,” Claire said with a knowing glint in her

  eyes.

  Helen winced at the compliment. “Is that it? Lucas didn’t say

  anything else?” Helen’s hands were curled up into fists. She found

  it hard to so much as say his name without wanting to punch

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  someone in the head. Obviously, she either still had heatstroke or

  she really was going out of her mind.

  “Hasn’t said a thing. But I did hear a rumor that Zach was talking

  trash about you and Lucas shut him down hard.”

  “Really?” Helen said, perking up. “Shut him down in what way?”

  “He wouldn’t let anyone say anything bad about you, is all. You

  know how Zach and Gretchen are. But Lucas wouldn’t hear it. He

  kept saying you felt like you had a really bad fever when he . . . did

  that thing that he did. What would you call that, anyway? A backassed

  bear hug?”

  Helen groaned and buried her face in her hands.

  “It’s all right,” Claire said, patting her back consolingly. “He’s not

  going around telling everyone you’re monkey-butt crazy, so at least

  you brutalized a seriously sweet guy.” Helen groaned louder and

  tried to crawl into the sofa while Claire had a nice, long laugh at

  her expense.

  That night, Helen had another nightmare about the dry land.

  When she woke she was so tired and sore that for a moment she almost

  believed that she had been walking for days, just like she had

  dreamed. She had always been good at ignoring strange things

  about herself, and she tried to convince herself that this was no different,

  but her hands shook as she bundled up her dirty sheets and

  took them to the laundry room.

  Helen washed the grit off in the shower and tried to focus on

  school, though that was no comfort, either. As soon as she walked

  into Nantucket High, it was going to be open season on the freak,

  and the freak knew it.

  It was still raining out, so she had to get a ride with Claire and

  her mother. Helen put a hand over her tummy, afraid of a cramp

  before she even got out of the car. She had never really understood

  why she got cramps; she just knew that sometimes when she did

  something that made people stare at her she was seized with a

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  crippling spasm in her stomach that was so intense it made her

  stop whatever it was that she was doing.

  “Relax,” Claire said as they opened their doors to get out. “All you

  have to do is make it through today and then you have the whole

  weekend to . . .” she trailed off, thinking. “Nope. Sorry, Len, I tried

  to be optimistic, but this’ll still suck on Monday.” Claire started

  laughing, and the sound cheered Helen up a bit—until they got inside

  the school.

  It was worse than she’d imagined. A group of underclassman

  girls literally gasped and huddled up to gossip as soon as they saw

  Helen come through the front doors. A senior boy with a leather

  fetish leered at Helen and called her “hellcat” just as he was

  passing by. When she turned to stare back at him in astonishment

  he mouthed the words “call me” before continuing on.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” Helen whispered. Claire put a hand

  on her back and pushed her forward.

  Every time someone’s eyes landed on her and widened with recognition

  she got closer and closer to a panic attack. Was she going

  to have to suffer through the rest of junior year like this? Helen

  tried to melt into Claire’s shadow and realized that if it was cover

  she was after, she was going to have to find some bigger friends.

  “Quit stepping on the backs of my feet!” Claire complained. “Why

  don’t you just go hide out with Hergie while I get your stuff out of

  your locker?”

  Gratefully, Helen ducked
into homeroom and tried to blend in

  with her desk. Mr. Hergeshimer asked if she was feeling better,

  and then ignored her completely as soon as she answered that she

  was feeling fine. She could have kissed him for that.

  Matt just waved and sat down without a word. Helen guessed

  correctly that he had been threatened by Claire to act like he’d forgotten

  the whole thing, but he kept trying to stop himself from

  glancing over at her, so Helen knew he was still really worried. She

  caught his eye and smiled warmly, and after that he seemed a little

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  less preoccupied. Zach turned his head and looked out the window

  as soon as he took his seat, making a big show of not looking at

  her.

  She made it through the rest of the morning without incident,

  right up until lunch. As she walked to the cafeteria she realized too

  late that she was going to pass by Lucas’s locker. She was about to

  turn and go another way, which was ridiculous because that would

  mean she would have to literally go around the entire school, when

  she was spotted.

  Gretchen and Zach noticed her as she stood wavering indecisively

  in the middle of the hall. They were at their lockers, which just so

  happened to be right next to Lucas’s and Jason’s. Some of the fuzz

  fell off of Helen’s memory and she recalled Gretchen’s and Zach’s

  petrified faces floating around in the background as she tried to

  choke Lucas. It made alphabetical sense for their lockers to be together,

  Brant—B, Clifford—C, Delos—D, but Helen blamed her terrible

  luck for the fact that all of the most popular people in her

  grade had been firsthand witnesses to her moment of utter

  humiliation.

  She had no choice—she was just going to have to walk past them.

  Gretchen and Zach didn’t say a word and their faces didn’t show

  any expression at all as Helen hurried by with her shoulders practically

  in her ears. At least Lucas wasn’t there, she thought, ducking

  into the cafeteria.

  “Stand up straight! You’re going to give yourself scoliosis,” Claire

  scolded when Helen got to their table.

  “Sorry. I just had to go by his locker,” Helen explained quietly.

  Matt made a disgusted sound.

  “You can calm down, Lennie,” he snapped. “None of them are

  here today.”

  “Supposedly they all took the day off because the aunt and the

  eldest Delos kid finally got to the island this morning,” Claire said.

  “Oh yeah, great,” Helen mused. “There’s another one.”

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  “Hector. He’s a senior,” Claire added helpfully, although she

  could have no idea that saying his name didn’t help Helen at all. In

  fact, for some inexplicable reason, it ticked her off.

  “No news on him yet. Zach will probably call me with an update

  this weekend,” Matt said with a shrug. “He always knows where

  everyone is and what they’re doing.”

  The rest of the day dragged by, although there was some relief in

  knowing that she wasn’t going to bump into the Delos kids or the

  wraiths that seemed to appear whenever they did. She even started

  to enjoy herself during track practice as she ran through the fog

  and splashed in muddy puddles with Claire. Coach Tar didn’t say a

  thing about Helen’s pathetically slow run time when she came in,

  although Helen knew she wouldn’t be able to get away with that for

  much longer. She had an athletic scholarship to win, and Coach

  Tar was not about to forget it.

  Dodging her way through the day, Helen made it to work that

  evening with something like relief, until she realized that a lot of

  kids from her school were coming in to buy a single piece of candy

  or one can of soda.

  “Why don’t you go to the back and do some stocking for me?”

  Kate asked, giving Helen a gentle pat on the arm. “They’ll stop

  coming in to gawk if they think you’ve left for the day.”

  “Don’t they have anything else to do on a Friday night?” Helen

  asked hopelessly.

  “What island did you grow up on?” Kate replied sarcastically.

  Helen rested her forehead briefly on Kate’s shoulder, stealing a

  second of comfort before she straightened up. “You may as well do

  the inventory, too. And take as long as you want,” Kate added as

  Helen headed toward the back.

  Inventory was not usually Helen’s favorite job, but it was that

  night. She was so occupied counting every object in the store that

  before she knew it, they were locking the front and going through

  the ritual of closing down.

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  “So. What really happened between you and that Lucas kid?”

  Kate asked without looking up from the stacks of bills she was

  sorting.

  “I wish I knew.” Helen sighed as she rested on her broom handle.

  “Everyone’s talking about you two. And not just the kids,” Kate

  said with a half smile. “So what’s up?”

  “Look, if I had an explanation, believe me, I’d be shouting it in

  the streets. I don’t know why I attacked him,” Helen said. “And the

  worst thing is that the attack isn’t the worst thing.”

  “Oh, you’re going to have to explain that,” Kate said. She put

  aside the money. “Come on. Tell me. What’s the worst thing?”

  Helen shook her head and started pushing the broom around.

  There had always been a voice in her head that would whisper

  possible explanations for her strangeness, words like freak or

  monster or even witch. No matter how deftly Helen silenced that

  voice, it always came back eventually.

  The absolute worst thing that Helen could think of would be to

  find out that she really was one of those things.

  “It’s nothing,” Helen said, unable to look up.

  “It isn’t just going to go away because you don’t talk about it, you

  know,” Kate pressed. Helen knew she was right, and she also knew

  she could trust Kate. Besides, she needed to talk to someone about

  it or she’d go crazy.

  “I’m having nightmares. Actually, it’s the same nightmare that I

  keep having over and over, and it feels so real. Like I’m going

  someplace while I’m sleeping.”

  “Where do you go?” Kate asked gently. She came out from behind

  the counter and made Helen stop sweeping and focus.

  Helen pictured the barren, hopeless world she had been forced to

  visit the last few nights.

  “It’s a dry place. Everything is bleached and colorless. I can hear

  running water in the distance, like there’s a river somewhere, but I

  just can’t reach it. It’s like I’m trying to find something, I think.”

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  “A dry land, huh? You know that’s pretty common in dream imagery,”

  Kate assured her. “It comes up in every dream book, in

  every country I’ve ever been to.”

  Helen swallowed her frustration and nodded. “Yeah, but I wake

  up in the morning and my feet . . .” She stopped herself, hearing

  how crazy she sounded. Kate studied Helen for a moment.

  “Are you sleepwalking, honey? Is that it?” Kate took Helen’s

  shoulders, encouraging Helen to look her in the eyes. Helen thre
w

  up her hands and shook her head.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’m so tired, Kate,” she said. A

  few exhausted tears slipped out. “Even if I manage to fall asleep I

  wake up and I feel like I’ve been running and running. I think I’m

  going crazy.” She let out a nervous laugh. Kate pulled Helen into

  one of her pastry-scented hugs.

  “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out,” Kate said soothingly. “Have you

  talked to your father yet?”

  “No. And I don’t want you to, either,” Helen insisted, drawing

  back to look directly at Kate. Kate gave her a searching look, and

  Helen continued. “Next week, if I’m still crazy, I’ll tell him, but I

  think we’ve both had enough drama for one week.”

  Kate nodded. “You decide when you’re ready to talk about it with

  your dad, and I’ll be there. My little loca,” she teased smilingly.

  Helen smiled back, grateful that she had Kate, who could listen to

  her seriously when she needed it, and then stop being serious at

  just the right time.

  “I think we can leave the rest.” Kate gave Helen one final squeeze.

  “Ready to go?” she called over her shoulder as she went behind the

  counter and put the money in the safe.

  Helen stowed her broom and made her way to the back door.

  Switching off the lights, Helen turned to lock up as Kate headed

  across the alley toward her car, keys in hand.

  Neither of them heard a thing. There was a blur and a faint flash

  of blue light in the corner of Helen’s eye, and a smell. It was a

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  nauseating yet hauntingly familiar odor of sizzling hair mixed with

  stale ozone. Then Kate dropped to the ground like a puppet with

  her strings cut. Helen instinctively held out her arms to try to

  break Kate’s fall, but the attacker took the opportunity to put a bag

  over Helen’s head from behind.

  She was too startled to scream. As she was pulled backward

  against a soft chest, it suddenly registered in Helen’s head that her

  attacker was a woman.

  Helen had always known she was strong—and not just strong for

  a girl. Strong for a bear. She bent her knees and braced the balls of

  her feet against the pavement, ready to give her would-be abductor

  the shock of her life. She flexed her back and tried to break out of

  her attacker’s arms, and was surprised to realize that she couldn’t.

  The unseen woman was just as impossibly strong as Helen. But