“Yes,” I tell him, too afraid to be annoyed. “But the light was on. It turned on, by itself, just as I was about to open the door. I heard . . .” I trail off, not sure if I should say anything else.
Perry is watching me closely. “Heard what?”
I swallow hard and give her a pleading look. “I heard mom,” I whisper.
“You know that’s not her,” she says to me but I can’t quite agree.
Dex frowns at us, then looks around him. He quickly moves to the desk and grabs the pencil I was using to sketch and holds it like a knife.
“What the hell are you going to do with that?” Perry hisses. “Draw the ghosts?”
He tilts his head, giving her an incredulous look. “Have you ever been stabbed with a pencil in the eye? No, because if you had, you’d probably be dead. Anyway, no one said anything about ghosts.”
“No one has to say anything about ghosts,” I say. “But I don’t think this is that. I know when I’m dealing with a ghost and when I’m dealing with . . . well, I don’t know. If I’m not dreaming then I’m going fucking crazy.”
Perry quickly pinches my arm, hard.
“Ow! The fuck?” I cry out, shying away from her.
“Not dreaming.”
Dex takes in a deep breath and whips the closet door open.
My hands fly to my face. I don’t know what I’m expecting.
But it’s empty. Just full of my clothes, shirts hanging from the rattling hangers. Dex stoops, sticking his hands into the bottom of the closet, shuffling through sandals and heels and clothes that have fallen.
“There’s nothing,” he says, straightening up. “Except that you have an obscene amount of heels that belong on a stripper named Candy.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I tell him, glaring.
He raises his palms, walking over to us. “Hey, I’ve known some mighty fine strippers in my day. It’s not an insult. Unless your name is Candy.”
Perry rolls her eyes. “I thought you were fond of the ones called Marla.”
“Ah, you remember,” he says happily.
Perry ignores him and turns to me. “So what exactly happened?”
I point at the desk. “I was sketching and fell asleep. I woke up. I heard the knocks.”
“Good ol’ exploding head syndrome,” Dex comments.
“Yes. That. But I swear it was right here, like someone was pounding on the desk. Of course I woke up and I was alone. Then there was something outside the window.”
Dex walks over to the window and hauls it up, sticking his head out for a moment.
“There’s a giant ass bird in the tree right there,” he says. “Could it be that? Looks like a raven.”
“Oh, well there just happens to be a fucking raven outside my window, can’t mean a thing,” I tell him, coming over.
I peer outside and sure enough, there’s a raven sitting at the end of the tree, its silhouette lit up by the streetlights. It cocks its head at me, staring at me with beady, glassy eyes, then flies off, its wings beating heavily as it goes.
I shudder again. There aren’t a lot of ravens around here, only crows. And I’ve certainly never seen any past midnight, nor hanging around the tree outside my window.
“Ignoring the bird for now,” Dex says, though from the hard look in his eyes I know he’s thinking something of it too, “then what happened?”
“I heard the closet door open. It wasn’t open before. It was closed. I swear it. Then I went toward it.”
“As you do when you think there’s something horrible in your closet,” Dex says.
“And then I heard my mom’s voice. She said, help me, Ada.” I look at Perry with wide-eyes. “It was her. I know it was her. She sounded so far away, so . . . strained. Then the light went on and I screamed and ran.”
Perry and Dex exchange a look.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Perry says, coming over to me. She puts her hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Want to sleep with us tonight?”
I wrinkle my nose. “No thanks. You do believe me, don’t you?”
“Of course we believe you,” Perry says. “You could tell me my old stuffed animals are trying to kill you and I’d believe you.”
“Wait, what?” I ask, my eyes flitting to the bed where I know her stuffed animals are stored in a box underneath.
“But I also think you’re stressed and exhausted and liable to seeing things. I know sometimes when I was seeing shit it wasn’t because there were actual ghosts, I was just so on edge that everything seemed out to get me.” She looks at Dex. “Sorry baby, I’m sleeping with my sister tonight.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself. You girls need anything, you know where I am.” He leaves the room, stretching his arms over his head. “Love you,” he calls over his shoulder. “You too, Perry.”