Chapter 3

We walk away from the creek and don’t look back. Conversation explodes behind us, but we’re a bit too far to pick out individual threads. It’s probably all relieved chatter because they’re not the ones who have to do this.

The four of us are silent until we’re out of earshot. I don’t know if it’s because we’re in shock or if we just don’t want anyone to hearus.

Sneaking into Arthur’s is nothing new. I think he even knows kids do that almost every Halloween, but stealing is another thing entirely. It makes my skin itch like ants are crawling all over me.

“We’re not really doing this, right?” Luce asks, wringing her hands. She looks at each one of us to gauge our reactions.

“Do you want the entire school to start gossiping about you and the drama teacher?” Jesse asks.

“Mr.O’Neil?” she squeaks. “Gross, he’s, like, eighty!”

“He’s fifty,” I say.

Jesse nudges me. “Okay, maybe it’s you who’s seeing him.”

“Fuller hung a birthday banner for him in the cafeteria last month. Pay attention,” I reply.

“Can we stop talking about crushing on teachers and discuss how we’re going to do this?” Atlas asks.

He’s fully on board, then.

“What if one of us knocks on the door and keeps him busy talking while the rest of us go looking for the stupid watch?” Jesse suggests.

Luce does a double take, looking at her boyfriend like he’s suggested we all move in with Arthur. “Yeah, any volunteers to talk to him? He’s weird.”

Personally, I don’t think disliking people makes you weird, but it’s not normal how he hides away, watching from his window. Usually, the nosy neighbors are chatty.

“What’s plan B?” Jesse asks.

“We find out where he is, using good old-fashioned stalking, then sneak in,” Atlas says.

Jesse laughs. “Okay, plan C?”

“Wait until he’s asleep. We run the risk of him locking the doors, though. Rhett didn’t say we’re against the clock, but…” Atlas trails off, knowing the answer.

But we will be.

There’s always a clock. Sighing, I say, “Plan B it is.”

Atlas takes my hand and smiles, a little too excited for the start of prank week, knowing what’s at stake here. “Pretend we’re in the middle of some covert operation.”

“As opposed to petty theft,” I say.

“It’s a dare, babe. Arthur will get his watch back.”

“Does it not seem strange to you?”

He shrugs one shoulder lazily, his smile easy. He’s so laid-back it’s unreal. Not much fazes Atlas. It’s one of the things I love most about him…until it drives me crazy.

“Come on. Luce, Jesse, tell me you don’t find this just a little bit suspicious? Why a particular gold watch? It’s not even a prank.”

“Marley, stop. Let’s just get this over with and hope Rhett moves his attention to the others and forgets about us,” Jesse says, using that authoritative tone he has on the field.

Atlas jabs his thumb toward Jesse. “I’m with him. We’re getting off lightly. I mean, he hasn’t asked us to set anything on fire.”

“Yet!” I snap, throwing my hands in the air. “Something isn’t right about this.”

“Marley’s right,” Luce says, backing me. “Why the watch?”

“Why take anything from the house?” Jesse asks.

“Proof that we snuck in,” Atlas replies, squeezing my hand—the show of affection an obvious attempt to soften the fact that he’s disagreeing with me. He doesn’t want it to turn into an argument. Most things have lately. I don’t know if it’s just the stress of finishing high school and preparing for college or if it’s something more.

“But people do that all the time. Why would he need proof?” I ask.

“What’s the theory, then, Marley?” Jesse asks. “You obviously think something else is going on here.”

But that’s where I’m stumped. Arthur isn’t a wealthy man, at least not from appearances, so his watches are likely to be cheap. Rhett’s family is loaded. His dad wears a different Rolex for every day of the week.

Rhett can’t really want Arthur’s watch.

So does he really just want proof that we went inside?

“You got nothing?” Atlas asks.

“That doesn’t mean he’s not up to something.”

Atlas gives me a sympathetic smile. “You’re right…but does it matter if he is? We just need to get the watch, and we’re done.”

The house is up ahead, the faded red roof just peeking over the valley. We climb the bank, my thighs burning at this point. I’m spurred on by a spike of adrenaline and dread.

We crouch down, hiding behind lone shrubs that grow in random spots out of the ground.

“The house is dark besides that light in the one window, so he’s probably in there,” Jesse says.

“Do you think?” Atlas’s voice is heavy on the sarcasm.

“I don’t see you offering any insight!”

“Stop! Both of you.” I feel like I’m about to lose my dinner. “We creep up to the house from the side and then along to the back. We shouldn’t be in sight of that window at all.”

“What happens when we get to the door?” Luce asks.

“We open it.”

Atlas and Jesse laugh. Luce scowls but I’m not sure what else she was expecting.

“Do we think he keeps his watches upstairs?” I ask. “If he even has more than one.”

“I think he has two,” Jesse replies.

I crane my neck to see him past Luce. “I’m sorry?”

“Dude, how do you know that?” Atlas asks.

“I packed his groceries for him when I used to be a bag boy. No idea what brand they are, but they’re big and gold. Flashier than I’d expect him to have, and they looked old. Didn’t fit, but I’ve seen the one Rhett described.”

“Flashy, like expensive?” Atlas asks.

Jesse rolls his eyes. “Do I look like an antiques dealer?”

“Kind of,” he replies.

I ignore them because their bickering isn’t helpful. We need to stay in control here, formulate a plan and then execute it. We’re in so much trouble if we’re caught.

“All right, let’s go.”

I pull Atlas up with me before he can argue with Jesse again.

“We’re going now, okay,” he mutters. “Stay low.”

We run, crouched like in some horror movie, to the side of the house right in front of us. I keep my eyes on the light in what I think is the living room.

As we approach the house, I think about the last time I was here. I came with my dad, before he took a new job at the same hospital as Mom. He was called to the house after Arthur’s estranged wife died. He told me to wait in the car while he went in, but I didn’t. I waited until the private ambulance turned up and then tiptoed in after them, knowing my dad would be distracted.

It was the first time I’d seen a dead body. She was sitting up in the floral armchair just like she was sleeping, head tilted sideways. But there was no movement in her chest. She could’ve been a mannequin.

She hadn’t been ill or anything, so she was taken for an autopsy. Heart attack in the night. She’d apparently slept in her own bedroom, so Arthur didn’t find her until the next morning.

I look up just as a shooting star trails across the sky. A bright light that’s either telling us to go inside now or warning us to go back. I can’t be sure which way it’s guiding me.

I’m not going to tell the others either. Atlas and Jesse already think my “signs” are creepy witchcraft that would get me burned at the stake if we lived in the seventeenth century.

Well, we don’t, and the gut feeling I get when something captures my attention is usually right.

Even so, this time I ignore it.

“Okay,” I whisper, my back now dead straight and pressed against the faded, wood-paneled walls. “We need to creep toward the door, but duck down when you pass that window.”

“There are no lights on in that window,” Jesse says beside me.

“Do you want to risk it?”

“I could take Arthur, Marley.”

“Just do it!” Luce angry whispers. If she didn’t have to be so quiet, she’d be shouting. Her eyes are tight, jaw set, and hands balled into fists. She’s losing her patience and that’s never pretty. She goes a bit…off the rails.

Jesse gives her one last look and nods. “Go, Atlas.”

We shuffle sideways like four little crabs. My back scrapes along the wall. I’m too pumped to notice, but I bet I’ll feel a bunch of splinters when I crash. Atlas reaches the window first and ducks down, awkwardly walking on his haunches.

I do the same, lowering myself down and shuffling. I place my hands on the ground to stop me from falling over, and a couple of rocks lodge themselves in my skin.

When I’m past the window, I rise again, wiping my palms on my shorts. “Ready?”

Atlas nods. “I’ll go first. Stay behind me.”

“We will,” Jesse says over my shoulder.

I watch, hyperaware of my thudding pulse as Atlas reaches for the door handle.

He twists and gently pushes the door.

It creeks loudly like an alarm announcing our arrival. I wince, holding my breath. Somewhere in the house I can hear the low murmur of a TV set to some old movie channel.

Atlas looks back and gestures with his hand for us to follow him.

The entryway is huge but sparse. Wood clads every wall on the inside too. Dust particles hit the back of my throat and I have to stifle a cough. Despite the lack of dusting, it’s tidy. From what I can see in the significantly reduced light anyway.

I step forward, and the floorboard beneath my feet screams. Literally, that’s what it sounds like. Atlas turns around, his teeth showing in a tense wince, as if he thinks I’m trying to make noise.

Mouthing my apologies, I slowly and gently lift my foot, the same noise ringing through the foyer. Quieter this time.

Jesse and Luce step over the board and we start up the stairs. The lack of carpet makes every step sound like thunder, no matter how gently we go.

At the top I turn to the others and whisper, “Let’s each check out a room.”

“Split up?” Luce asks.

“We’re in a house, Luce, not the forest. I’ve been here before. There are four rooms. There are four of us. We can be out of here in a few minutes if we separate.”

I’ve only been in the guest room where George stays, so I don’t know which of the other three doors lead to bedrooms or bathrooms, but it won’t take long to figure out.

“Okay, let’s do it,” Jesse says, reaching for the handle of the door closest to him.

It’s at that exact moment we hear footsteps coming from the room across the hall, and my heart stalls.