Frozen Charlotte

I felt awkward about Cameron getting into trouble on my account and thought I ought to say something.

“Who’s your friend?” Lilias asked.
“What friend?”
“The girl that came here with you.”
I stared at her. “No one came with me.”
“Yes, she did.” Lilias insisted. She pointed at Rebecca’s closed door and added, “She just went in there. She said it was her room but that’s not true. That’s my sister’s room.”

“This is my ostrich. Her name is Hannah. She’s my best friend. She never says bad things to me. She never tells me to do horrible things.”

Daddy says never ever open the gate…

there were three questions you must never ask a Ouija board:
Never ask about God.
Never ask where the gold is buried.
Never ask when you’re going to die.

Jay and I were both giggling now, like little kids, but his next, and final, question made the laugh stick in my throat. “When will I die?”
This time the planchette gave a different answer. It whizzed around the board aimlessly once again before clearly spelling out seven letters:
T-O-N-I-G-H-T

“But, miss,” one of the girls said, “they like being dead. They told us.”

The girls were playing with the Frozen Charlotte dolls again.

“Dude, I think that app has broken your phone,” I said.
It was only a joke. I didn’t really think there was anything wrong with the phone that turning it off and on again wouldn’t fix, but then the screen light started to flicker, and all the lights in the café flickered with it.
Jay and I looked at each other and I saw the first glimmer of uncertainty pass over his face.
And then every light in the café went out, leaving us in total darkness.

st likes me very