I turn away without answering. Viv was front and center in the local news coverage of the pep rally stunt, getting interviewed like some kind of Echo Ridge crime expert. She’s been in Katrin’s shadow for so long, there’s no way she’s letting her moment in the spotlight go. But I don’t have to help extend her fifteen minutes of fame.
I shoulder through the crowd and finally spot Ellery. She’s hard to miss—her hair is teased into a black cloud around her head and her eyes are so heavily made up that they seem to take up half her face. She looks like some kind of goth anime character. I’m not sure what it says about me that I’m kind of into it.
She catches my eye and waves me over. She’s standing with a guy a few years older than us with a man-bun, a goatee, and a tight henley shirt with the buttons undone. The whole look screams college guy trolling for high school girls, and I hate him instantly. “Hey,” Ellery says when I reach them. “So apparently there’s a party tonight.”
“I noticed,” I say with a glare toward Man Bun.
He’s not fazed. “House of Horrors tradition,” he explains. “It’s always on the Saturday closest to the owner’s birthday. I can’t stay, though. Got a toddler at home that never sleeps. I have to give my wife a break.” He swipes at his face and turns to Ellery. “Is all the blood off?”
Ellery peers at him. “Yeah, you’re good.”
“Thanks. See ya later,” the guy says, and starts pushing his way through the crowd.
“So long,” I say, watching him leave with a lot less venom now that I know he wasn’t hitting on Ellery. “The blood he’s referring to is makeup, right?”
Ellery laughs. “Yeah. Darren spends all night in a bloody bathtub. Some people don’t bother washing their makeup off till they get home, but he tried that once and terrified his child. Poor kid might be scarred for life.”
I shudder. “I was scarred for life going through that room, and I was ten.”
Ellery’s giant anime eyes get even wider. “Who brought you here when you were ten?”
“My brother,” I say.
“Ah.” Ellery looks thoughtful. Like she can see into the secret corner of my brain that I try not to visit often, because it’s where my questions about what really happened between Declan and Lacey live. That corner makes me equal parts horrified and ashamed, because every once in a while, it imagines my brother losing control of his hair-trigger temper at exactly the wrong moment.
I swallow hard and push the thought aside. “I’m kind of surprised they’d have this after what happened last night.”
Ellery gazes around us. “I know, right? But hey, everyone here works in a Halloween theme park. They don’t scare easy.”
“Do you want to stay for a while?”
She looks regretful. “Better not. Nana didn’t even want us to work tonight. She’s pretty freaked out.”
“Are you?” I ask.
“I …” She hesitates, pulling on a strand of teased hair and winding it around her finger. “I want to say no, because I hate the fact that some anonymous creep can rattle me. But yeah. I am. It’s just too … close, you know?” She shivers as someone squeezes past her in a Scream mask. “I keep having these conversations with my mother where she has no idea what’s going on, and all I can think is—no wonder she never wanted to bring us here. Her twin sister disappears, her favorite babysitter’s daughter is murdered, and now this? It’s enough to make you feel like the whole town is cursed.”
“Your mother doesn’t know about—anything?” I ask.
“No. We’re only supposed to have uplifting communication with her.” She releases her hair. “You know she’s in rehab, right? I figured the entire town knows.”
“They do,” I admit. She snort-laughs, but the sadness behind it tugs at my chest. “I’m sorry you’re dealing with that. And I’m sorry about your aunt. I’ve been meaning to tell you that. I know it all happened way before we were born, but … that sucks. In a massively stating-the-obvious sort of way.”
Ellery drops her eyes. “I’m pretty sure it’s why we wound up here. I don’t think Sadie’s ever dealt with it. No closure, no nothing. I didn’t connect the dots when Lacey died, but that’s when things started going downhill. Must’ve brought bad memories too close to the surface. So it’s sort of ironic that she’s in the dark now, but—what can you do?” She lifts her water bottle in a mock salute. “Three cheers to uplifting communication. Anyway. We should probably find Ezra, huh? He said he was going downstairs to get some water.”
We make our way out of the crowded dungeon and take the staircase down to the staff room, but there’s no sign of Ezra there. It’s cooler than it was upstairs, but I’m still overheated and a little thirsty. I cross over to the minifridge and take out two bottles of water, putting one on the vanity and offering the other to Ellery.
“Thanks.” She reaches out a hand, but our timing’s off; I let go before she’s grasped it fully, and it falls to the floor between us. When we both reach for it, we almost knock heads. Ellery laughs and puts a hand on my chest.
“I have it,” she says, and picks it up. She straightens, and even in the dim lighting I can see how red her cheeks are. “We’re so graceful, aren’t we?”
“That was my fault,” I say. The whole exchange has left us standing closer than we need to be, but neither of us moves away. “Bad handoff. You can see why I never made it as a football player.” She smiles and tilts her head up and, holy hell, her eyes are pretty.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, getting redder.
Oh. I said that out loud.
She moves a little closer, brushing against my hip, and an electric charge runs through me. Are we … should I …
Don’t be such a wuss, Mal.
God. Of all times to hear my brother’s stupid voice.
I reach out a hand and trace my thumb along Ellery’s jaw. Her skin is just as soft as I thought it would be. Her lips part, I swallow hard, and just then there’s a loud scratching noise behind us and somebody says, “Damn it!” in a frustrated tone.
Ellery and I break apart, and she twists to face the office. She’s across the room in a second, easing open the cracked door. Brooke Bennett is slumped on the floor, wedged between the desk and some kind of giant recycling bin. Ellery goes to her and crouches down.
“Brooke? Are you okay?” she asks.
Brooke’s hair hangs in her face, and when she pushes it aside she nearly stabs herself in the eye with something small and silvery. Ellery reaches over and takes it from her. I can see form the doorway that it’s a paper clip, pulled open and unfurled so its edges are exposed. Another one just like it rests on the floor next to her. “This is harder than he said it would be,” Brooke says, her voice slurring.