Page 18 of Ghost in the Night

My ears perk up at the sound of snapping like a branch, or maybe wood, coming from the window above my head. As I stretch on my tiptoes to peek inside, I hear jingling. Myah has pushed the gate open enough to slip under the bike chain and into the backyard, walking through the tall weeds like she’s wading into water.

“Yo, what are you—”

“Shhh! There’s another door back here. Come on.”

I look around the empty block, checking to see if anyone is watching. ’Cause this is definitely breaking and entering.

Back in the square Robby watches us in horror, waving me over and shaking his head. But I creep under the chain and follow Myah, stepping over trash that must have blown into the yard somehow.

Myah is right. There’s a back door that leads to the lower part of the house. The basement maybe?

Myah suddenly whips around. “Did you hear that?” she hisses.

“No, what?” I gasp, my heart racing.

“It sounded like a can rolling across the floor. Something is in there.”

My stomach knots up. SomeTHING and someONE are two totally different things. I watch Myah inch closer, leaning an ear toward the door. I have to stop myself from telling her to run.

“What is it?” I whisper.

“Shh. Come here.”

I gulp and join her, leaning toward the warped gray plywood that looks like it’s been ripped off, not as secured as the front door.

A cramp hits my right side, and I lean over with anoof.

“You okay?” Myah asks.

“Um, yeah,” I say as the pain fades. Must have been something I ate.

Inside, it sounds like a whirling storm, wind whistling through the cracks. But it’s not windy out here. It’s swamp-humid, not a breeze in sight.

Myah closes her eyes and holds a hand on the door, breathing in deep.

That’s when I notice her necklace dangling on her shirt, made of a long, dark rope twisted into a little leather pouch.

“Cool necklace,” I say. “Did you make it yourself?”

Myah grips the pouch, pushing her shoulders back with a raised eyebrow. “No. My grandmama made it. It’s a mojo bag. Do you know what it means?”

“Yeah. It’s for protection from evil spirits and stuff, right?”

Her lips twitch into a small smirk. “Yeah. How you know that?”

“I saw it on a lady in New Orleans, at a voodoo shop.”

Myah’s eyes light up. “Was it on another ghost tour?”

I start to respond when she suddenly bolts upright, her eyes wide.

“Did you hearthat?” she whispers. “It sounds like someone’s screaming.”

I don’t hear a thing.

She shakes her head. “Something bad happened here.”

“How do you know?”