Page 125 of She Haunts Me Still

“Mal.” Raf grabs her shoulders, halting her. “Do you know what ‘rainbow box’ means?”

She blinks. “What?”

“Saskia kept saying it. Rainbow box, rainbow box.” His eyes shift to her. “Now, she won’t say anything.”

Mallory slowly registers the way Arden had been crouched at Saskia’s desk, rummaging through drawers. The closet is also open, hangers on the floor. They’ve been searching for something, tearing apart the dorm in an urgent hunt.

“Rainbow box.” Her thoughts spin. “Rainbow b—Wait.”

Whirling, Mallory scans the room until she spots Saskia’s backpack. She combs through it until she finds something hard and square: the little wooden box she noticed the other day. She rubs her fingers over the faded rainbow stickers, tracing the outline of the letters on the lid: ICOE.It’s just something my mom gave me before she died.

“In case of emergency,” Raf reads over her shoulder.

Mallory’s gaze slips to the padlock. She frowns. There aren’t any numbers, no hidden keyhole. It’s just a silver sphere encased in a black holder. She fiddles with it, realizing that the ball can be pushed in a variety of directions, clicking after each turn. There must be some sort of code, some key with arrows—

Arrows.

“Wait. I think I know how to open this,” Mallory says, shoving the box into Arden’s hands. “I’m going to read you the instructions, okay?”

Arden offers an apprehensive nod as Mallory darts to the bed, studying Saskia’s faraway expression.

“Your arrow tattoos,” she whispers, swallowing nervously. “I need to look at them.”

Mallory reaches for Saskia’s arm, bare in a clean white dress Arden helped her into in the dressing room. Unease ripples through her at the coldness of Saskia’s skin, the way her flesh is textured and scaly, like her body is decomposing while she’s still alive.

Just as Mallory turns to study the arrows, Saskia begins to hum. It’s an eerie, familiar lullaby, one that causes goosebumps to rush across Mallory’s skin.

“My mother used to sing that same song,” Mallory murmurs.

The melody dies out. Saskia stares ahead, unblinking. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Mallory freezes at the unexpected sound of her voice. It’s distant and thin. Not rattling like the demon’s, but far-off and hazy. As though Saskia herself has begun to disappear.

“Sas,” she whispers. “It’s me.”

“You…” Saskia finally turns her pale eyes to Mallory. The lights flicker. “This is your fault.Youdid this to me. You’re just as bad as him.”

“No,” she whispers. “That’s not true.”

“Give me a knife,” she singsongs, milky gaze aglow. As if in a trance. “Let me end this, let me—”

“Stop!” Mallory yells, splaying her hands on either side of Saskia’s unrecognizable face. “Jacob is dead! Victor is dead! Ezra is dead! Iburned him alive.” Tears spill over her lashes. “The thing inside him should be dead, too. Why is this still happening, why—?”

But then, the lights start flashing, electricity buzzing and buzzing and buzzing. Arden whines her name.

With a cry, Mallory grabs Saskia’s elbow again. Glancing at Arden, she works out, “Ready?”

Arden shudders in Raf’s arms. She tightens her fingers around the box. She nods.

The lights continue thrashing and shuttering and—

“Left,” Mallory commands. “Up. Right. Right. Down. Left. Up. Up. Up.”

The bulbs in the ceiling explode, popping one at a time, raining shards of glass over them. Saskia throws her head back, her keening wail piercing the newly darkened room.

Arden hands Mallory the open box.

Saskia’s scream cuts off. The sudden quiet is somehow worse. Mallory’s head swims as she pulls out a slip of parchment paper, studying it in the silver moonlight.