The Night Sister

“You’d think, if he was taking off for a new life out west, he’d pack a few things, maybe even straighten up.” Amy went into the kitchen and looked in the sink. “Holy crap, there are two dirty cups in here. He didn’t even do the dishes before he left.”


Amy turned and picked up a book from the counter; on its cover, a scantily clad girl was standing in front of a spaceship. “Guess the dude liked his sci-fi.”

Another book sat in the middle of the kitchen table: The Stars My Destination. Piper noticed there was a piece of paper being used as a bookmark. She flipped the book open and saw that the paper was Tower Motel stationery, folded in half. On it, neatly typed, were the words:

I know what you are and what you do. You have to stop. If you don’t, I will find a way to stop you.



“Take a look at this,” Piper said, handing the note over to Amy.

“Whoa,” Amy breathed.

“Hey!” Margot called through the open window at the other end of the trailer. “I hear a car coming up the driveway—you better get outta there!”

Amy tucked the folded piece of paper back into the old paperback, shoved it in the waistband of her shorts, and pulled her T-shirt over it. She climbed through the trailer window, Piper right behind her.

“Your grandma’s home, I think,” Margot said, voice low.

“Come on,” Amy said, “let’s go back to my room.”

—

Amy’s grandma was unloading bags of groceries from the back of her Oldsmobile when they got to the driveway. “Give me a hand, will you, girls?” she called out.

They each took a load into the kitchen.

“Grandma, did Fenton go away before Sylvie ran away or after?”

“Right before. I always told your grandfather that Fenton running off like that might have put the idea in Sylvie’s head. Made her think it was perfectly normal to go sneaking off for parts unknown in the middle of the night.”

“Do you know what happened to Fenton? Did you ever hear from him?”

“Hmm? No, no, we never did,” Grandma Charlotte said, stuffing a gallon of milk into the fridge. “Now, why don’t you girls go on upstairs? I’ll put these things away. Then we can make cookies. I got some of that dough in a tube—we just have to bake them.”

“Sure, Grandma, sounds great,” Amy said. “But one more thing…” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the Polaroid.

Oh, no, Piper thought. Not the freaking ghost-dog picture again.

“What do you see, Gram?”

Grandma Charlotte stared down at the blurry picture for what felt like forever. At last, she recited:

“When Death comes knocking on your door,

you’ll think you’ve seen his face before.

When he comes creeping up your stairs,

you’ll know him from your dark nightmares.

If you hold up a mirror, you shall see

that he is you and you are he.”



Amy took a step back. “Way creepy, Gram.” Amy glanced at Piper and Margot and gave them a dramatic, my-kooky-old-grandma eye roll.

Grandma Charlotte smiled vaguely and went back to the groceries.

“Go on upstairs now, Sylvie. I’ll call you down when it’s time for cookies.”

Amy nodded, muttered, “It’s Amy, Gram,” and headed out of the kitchen, Piper and Margot behind her.

“Well, that was weird,” Margot said under her breath once they got to the stairs.

“Yeah, my grandma’s full of freaky little poems and rhymes. Stuff her mom taught her when she was a kid. But don’t you think that’s a little suspicious?” Amy whispered.

“The poem?” Piper said.

“No, dummy, the thing with Fenton! Fenton leaves—in such a hurry that he left all his crap behind—and then Sylvie takes off right after, and neither of them is ever heard from again?”

“It’s a little weird,” Piper admitted.

“But what does it mean?” asked Margot.

“I don’t know,” said Amy. “But it’s another piece of the puzzle.”

They got to Amy’s room and closed the door; Amy pushed the latch closed. She went to her desk, pulling the paperback sci-fi book out from under her shirt. Suddenly she froze, as her eyes fell on the typewriter.

“What the hell?” she whispered.