For my abuelos

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

1: The Storm Outside

2: Old Ghosts

3: The Curse of the Blood Moon

4: The Fog Is Coming

5: The Blood Moon Jaguar

6: He’s Coming for You

7: The Boy in the Woods

8: Books about Ghosts

9: The Missing Cat

10: A Journal from the Grave

11: I’m Here

12: The Pond Poem

13: A Warning of Bad Things

14: Noisy Ghosts

15: Beware the Furry Toe

16: The Girl by the Pond

17: Running out of Time

18: The Camp

19: The Boy in the Woods

20: Paws Not Claws

21: To the Pond

22: All Scary Stories Must End

23: Blueberry Pancakes

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by Angela Cervantes

Copyright

AFTER THE TALK ABOUT HIS FUTURE WAS DONE, Rafael Fuentes rushed out the school’s main door as fast as he could. His sixth-grade teacher, Ms. Cortez, followed behind. He walked straight to the trash can and threw away the letter she’d given him.

“Throwing it away won’t change anything, Rafa,” she said from the doorway. Her voice was kind despite everything she’d just told him about his failing grades, attitude, and required summer school. “I’ve already spoken to your grandma. She knows.”

Rafa felt like he’d been punched in the gut. His grandma knew? How many times had he promised that he’d do better in school? He’d lost count. He gazed around the deserted schoolyard. Everyone, including his best friend, Jayden, had already scattered off to start summer break. For Rafa, there’d be no break. Summer meant more school and his mom being released from prison. He took a deep breath through his nose, the way the school counselor had taught him, and let it out through his mouth. Inhale. Exhale.

“I know your mom is coming home,” Ms. Cortez continued. “Things must feel out of your control, but you hold the pen to your own story.”

“Not when Nikki is around,” he shot back. He never called Nikki “Mom.” Even if she was. She hadn’t acted like a mom to him or his little sister in a long time. She’d been Nikki—short for her first name, Nicole—since the day she was arrested.

Ms. Cortez gave him a patient smile. “I’ll see you in summer school, Rafa. I look forward to reading more of your scary stories soon.” She went back inside. The school door closed behind her.

Rafa never expected the school year to end this way. The only class he passed was language arts, and that’s because Ms. Cortez let him submit a notebook full of scary stories for extra credit. Horror stories were easy for him. His whole life with Nikki was a horror story. He could write them in his sleep.

Nikki was being released early because she was a so-called model inmate. Grandma explained that this meant that Nikki was well-liked and had improved herself in prison. She had started online community college classes. She even tutored other inmates. More important, his grandma said, Nikki was eager to prove she could be a good mom. Rafa wasn’t impressed. His mom was tutoring inmates while he was failing school. Way to go, Nikki!

Rafa hadn’t seen Nikki since she was put into a police car and arrested. He refused every invitation to visit her in the women’s prison three hours away. His little sister, Brianna, didn’t go either. She always stayed with him. After every visit, his abuela brought him a letter from Nikki. Rafa refused to even touch them, as if touching one would prick his fingers and make him bleed. Regardless, his abuela saved every letter, hoping someday he’d feel ready. He doubted he’d ever feel ready. Nikki might be a model prisoner, but she’d never be a model mom.

The sky rumbled. Rafa glanced up at a flock of black birds crossing the gray sky. He unzipped his hoodie, saddled his bike, and sped toward his sister’s elementary school. The after-school lecture from Ms. Cortez had made him late. She knew he was responsible for picking up Brianna, but Ms. Cortez wouldn’t be deterred. In a quick second, she called the elementary school and asked them to watch Brianna Fuentes for an extra twenty minutes. At least his sister would know it was out of his control.

As he turned the corner, he spotted the school office assistant, Ms. Kaplan, and Brianna sitting on the school’s steps. Brianna’s head of dark, wavy hair was buried deep into a book. She had on her usual black combat boots. No matter the season or temperature, she wore them every day. And although her classmates teased her for wearing them, it didn’t stop her. She once told Rafa that wearing them made her feel brave. Rafa understood wanting to feel like that.

He pulled up to the front of the school with a loud screech from braking. “Sorry I’m late, Brie.”

“Just in time.” She smiled and closed her book. “Thanks, Ms. Kaplan.”

The woman waved back at her. In one graceful movement, Brianna bounced up, stashed the book in her book bag, and slung it onto her back. She was tiny for her age, with a mischievous smile that got her into trouble without even saying a word. Although, when she did say a word, it was usually a big one that she’d learned herself.

“I almost finished my book, Rafa. It’s so enthralling.” She settled on the back of his bike.

When he felt her hands secured on his shoulders, he kicked off.

“It’s about a girl who is possessed by a ghost snake,” she said over his shoulder. “It’s not as scary as the stories you tell though. Yours are much better— Wait! Stop!” Brianna yelled.

Rafa stomped the brakes, causing them to lurch forward. “You forget something?”

“The school billboard!” She pointed at it and giggled. “Clever, right?”

The billboard’s message read:

REMEMBER: PAWS NOT CLAWS!

HAVE A SAFE SUMMER, MIGHTY

JAGUARS!

“Really? That sign is weak, Brie.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s ingenious. It reminds me of you.”

“What are you talking about?” He restarted down the road.

“You’re like my mama jaguar.”

“Cool,” Rafa said flatly. “My next Halloween costume.”

Brianna laughed. “You show your claws when you have to … like when we lived in the shelter, remember?” Brianna’s voice softened. “You were claws back then, but now you’re mostly softy paws.”

Ever since they learned that their mom was coming home early, Brianna had started bringing up their time living with Nikki more. Every time she did, Rafa tensed up and clenched his jaw so hard he couldn’t speak sometimes. He didn’t want to remember being dragged in and out of shelters, living out of the car, or at one of Nikki’s so-called friends’ apartments. He didn’t want to relive the days when he and Brianna used secret-code phrases for when they didn’t feel safe. Somehow, while he only remembered the bad, Brianna only remembered the good. Rafa wondered how she was able to do that—take a horrible memory and pull out just the sweet parts.

“You look mean, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly,” she continued. “And you tell the most gruesome stories, but you always give them happy endings.” She tugged at the dark hair he had pulled into a bun at the back of his head.

“Don’t play around,” Rafa grumbled.

Brianna always did this to him—made him feel sentimental and wonder what the heck he’d ever do without her.

“You fall off this bike and I’ll be in even more trouble.”

“More trouble?” Brianna leaned in closer. “Is that why you were at school late?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, slowing his pedaling when he saw a woman standing in the middle of the street with her hands raised toward the darkening sky. Her back was to them and she wore a long burgundy robe. The wind had picked up, and her silvery hair whipped around her shoulders. “What is she doing?”

Brianna peered over Rafa’s shoulder to get a better look. “It’s Ms. Martin.”

“I know, but why is she in the middle of the street?” Rafa asked. “She’s so weird.”

“Not weird,” Brie said. “Eccentric!”

“You and your big words.” Rafa smirked back at her. “I’m gonna check on her.”

“Like I said, all softy paws.”

“Quit it. I’m only doing it because Grandma would want me to.”

“Whatever you say.”

Rafa rode up slowly toward the woman. “Ms. Martin? Is everything okay?” he asked in a gentle voice. “Do you need help getting back to your house?”

She spun around and looked relieved to see them. “Oh, Rafael! And beautiful Brianna! Here you are! I needed to speak to you.”

At her feet, a tan cat with dark rosette markings sat and peered up at them with golden eyes. Around its neck was a gold, leathery-looking collar with gemstones and a bell that sparkled. It twitched its ears, and the bell around its neck let off a delicate jingle.

“About what?” Rafa asked, studying her closer. Rafa had only met Ms. Martin a few times since he and Brie moved in with their abuelos. In that time, he’d never seen her with her hair unbraided or without her glasses. Most of the time, she appeared elegant and serious, but now she looked frazzled.

“I want to warn you about the blood moon.”

“A blood what?” Rafa asked, confused.

“Look at the sky, mis niños. A blood moon nears,” she said with urgency in her voice. “Your abuela brags about how imaginative your stories are, but you must not to tell any scary stories while the blood moon hangs in the sky.”

Rafa followed her gaze. The only thing he saw in the sky were dark storm clouds.

“It’s just a thunderstorm,” Rafa replied. “It’ll pass, Ms.—”

Suddenly, she lunged forward, grasping Rafa’s shoulders. She leaned in, stopping just inches from his face. “He’s listening. He’s waiting for your story.”

Rafa pulled away. “You have to calm down, Ms. Martin.”

Her grasp was strong—stronger than she looked—but Rafa saw no threat in her eyes, just desperation. She stepped back immediately. A wave of realization swept over her face.

“You can’t grab kids like that,” Brianna scolded her, gently patting Rafa’s back.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Ms. Martin muttered, wringing her hands so tight, Rafa half expected her to start pulling off her fingers. “But this is important … Please, no scary stories tonight.”

Rafa glanced back at Brianna. She looked as baffled as he felt. Was this for real? He took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. That’s when he saw what was really hidden in Ms. Martin’s eyes. It wasn’t desperation. It was fear. What was frightening her? Who was listening and waiting for his story?

“Fine,” Rafa said with a shrug. “I won’t tell any scary stories tonight. How about tomorrow? Is that okay? Scary stories are sort of my thing this time of year.”

“We always host scary story nights on our porch in the summer,” Brianna added, followed by a nervous giggle. “Grandma makes homemade popcorn and everything.”

“I know all about your scary story nights,” Ms. Martin said. “Tomorrow is better, but you must promise me about tonight.”

Rafa hesitated, and Brianna nudged him gently. “I promise,” he answered.

Brianna also nodded in agreement.

Ms. Martin smiled faintly and turned away. “Very good. No scary stories. Safer this way,” she mumbled, lumbering toward her long gravel driveaway.

“What is she saying?” Brie asked.

“Something about being safer this way.”

“We should make sure she gets inside.”

Rafa wanted nothing more to do with Ms. Martin. He still felt her grasp on his shoulders like it was a ghoul shoving him down into a cold grave.

“Rafa?” Brianna pressed. “We’re going to follow her, right?”

“Do we have to?” he grumbled, knowing he would because he always did what Brianna wanted.

He took a deep breath through his nose and released it through his mouth. Inhale. Exhale. Keeping a distance, he pedaled up the gravel driveway lined with fully grown evergreen trees. As Ms. Martin tottered up the driveway, her robe dragged against the ground, collecting leaves, dirt, and pebbles. Rafa felt like he was being dragged too. Dragged into some nonsense about a blood moon and forbidden ghost stories.

He braked once she reached the porch, where two life-size bronze jaguar statues stood guard at each end. Rafa thought the statues were cool and appropriate, considering Ms. Martin lived with a bunch of feral cats. She gave them a slight wave before disappearing into the large house.

Rafa turned the bike around to leave. The cat with the golden stare sat in the middle of the driveway as if daring them to pass.

“That cat is looking at me like I’m its next snack.”

Brianna chuckled. “I bet it’s a guard cat. Get it? Instead of a guard dog, she has a guard cat?”

“Goofball.” Rafa smirked.

Just then, lightning flashed across the sky. Rafa kicked off and pedaled cautiously around the cat and down the driveway. Once he hit the street, he picked up speed. A storm was coming. And Rafa knew better than anyone that bad things happened when the sky went dark.

BY THE TIME RAFA PULLED UP TO THE FRONT LAWN of their small home, the sky was a sheet of gray turning the late afternoon into night. Just as they made it to the covered porch, a loud clap of thunder shook the sky, releasing a blanket of rain.

“Oh no! That cat followed us,” Brianna wailed. “He’s getting soaked.”

Rafa followed her gaze to the sidewalk where the cat with the golden stare sat perfectly still, despite the relentless thick raindrops.

“That cat is as weird as Ms. Martin,” he said. “They’re perfect for each other. C’mon, you can tell Grandma about Ms. Martin and the cat.” He opened the front door and guided Brianna inside.

“Abuela!” Brianna yelled, heading downstairs to the basement while Rafa glanced at the cat. He felt bad for it. Its ears were flattened, and it was drenched.

“Here, cat!” he called, pulling out a half-eaten granola bar from his hoodie.

The cat meowed, but it didn’t move.

“Suit yourself.” Rafa left a few chunks of the granola bar on the porch, hoping that would draw the cat from the rain.

The strange encounter with Ms. Martin had left Rafa unsettled. So much that he’d almost forgotten about his conversation with Ms. Cortez. He wasn’t sure what was worse: Ms. Martin warning him about ghost stories or Ms. Cortez warning him that if he didn’t shape up, he’d have to repeat sixth grade. He hated that idea. If that happened, he’d have to change schools because there’d be no way he’d show his face at the same school with his classmates looking at him like he was a loser.

In his room, he quickly pulled off his sneakers and wet socks and switched them for a pair of dry ones. When he came back out to the living room, he checked on the cat. The bits of granola bar and the cat were gone. Only the pounding rain remained, turning the street in front of their house into a river.

He thought back to Ms. Martin’s warning. It made zero sense. What did a thunderstorm and a blood moon have to do with telling scary stories? He’d told plenty of ghost stories during thunderstorms before. It was Missouri, after all. And a Missouri summer always showed up with three things: lightning bugs, mosquitoes, and thunderstorms. Plus, he had a spiral notebook full of scary stories screaming to be shared this summer.

Since being placed with his grandparents, Rafa started making friends by telling scary stories at school. Last summer, his abuela encouraged him to invite his friends to their front porch for scary story night. She’d light candles and set the mood while Abuelo made his famous pan-popped popcorn, drizzled with butter and salt. Everyone sipped icy-cold root beer while Rafa told stories about children who fought off restless evil spirits, vile ghosts, and bloodthirsty ghouls. Now, instead of being known as the kid with the mom in prison, he was known as the ghost storyteller.

That was how he and Jayden Leal became best friends. Jayden was eleven years old too. He was built like a linebacker but preferred hitting home runs. He wasn’t shy about his dream to become a canonized Catholic saint. A real true saint like Saint Joan of Arc or Saint Peter. At school, the eighth graders called him, “Saint Jayden of Grainsville” and would cross themselves when he passed in the hallway. Jayden loved it. Turned out, Saint Jayden also loved to be scared silly. Jayden insisted on reading Rafa’s entire notebook before he handed it over to Ms. Cortez for extra credit.

This kind of friendship was new to Rafa. Until Jayden, Brianna had been his only friend, but he wasn’t sure if that counted since she was also his sister. When they lived in the shelter, it was tough to make friends with the other kids who stayed there. By the time he got to know someone, they moved out or Nikki decided she couldn’t handle the shelter’s rules and they were kicked out. He called them “ghost friendships.” They appeared and then vanished, leaving him wondering if they ever really existed at all. That was the kind of friendship Rafa was used to.

He half expected Jayden to ghost him at some point too. Yet, Jayden sat with him at lunch every day and invited Rafa everywhere. This year, he invited Rafa to an overnight camping trip that was meant to kick off the summer for the neighborhood. Everyone would sleep in a tent under the stars, go fishing, play volleyball, and roam the woods. The best part? At night, there’d be scary stories shared around the campfire until all of them were too scared to sleep. Rafa was ready. Most important to him was that Brianna could go too. It was their first camping trip and a chance to be normal kids.

Rafa made a beeline for the kitchen, where his abuelo was at the table talking on the phone. Rafa gave him a wave. After a few seconds, his abuelo slipped the phone into his pocket with a frown. “Another bill collector.”

“For Nikki, right?” Rafa asked, pulling mustard and a package of deli meat from the fridge. His abuelo nodded that he was correct.

Brianna entered the kitchen from the basement and took a seat at the table, eyeing the sandwich Rafa was making. He squeezed mustard on the bread, topped it with deli meat and a slice of cheese. He slid it to her on a plate.

“I was hoping to put in a bathroom downstairs for your mom. Give her more privacy, but it won’t happen this summer,” Grandpa said, shaking his head in disappointment. “And I still need to buy back your abuela’s piano somehow.”

“I’m saving up for it too,” Rafa said, making a sandwich for himself. “Brianna wants to learn to play.”

During the winter, Rafa woke early on snow days to shovel people’s driveways, and in the summer, he did lawn work—all with the hope to earn enough to buy his abuela’s piano back. She’d sold it to help pay Nikki’s legal fees. Sometimes, Rafa caught his abuela on the porch wriggling her fingers in front of her as if playing an invisible piano. He figured not having her piano was like him not having a pen or notebook to write down a story. Now, he worried that summer school would ruin his chance to earn money.

“Rafael,” his grandma called out from the top of the basement stairs.

Rafa could barely see her from behind the laundry basket she carried. His abuela was tiny just like Brianna and he towered over them both.

“Abuela, you can’t be carrying heavy things on the stairs,” he said, rushing to grab the basket from her and putting it on the floor. “You could fall.”

“Thank you, mijo, but I drank my green tea this morning. I’m stronger than ever!” She grunted goofily like a bull.

Brianna passed her a glass of water. As Abuela sipped, Rafa worried what she’d say about summer school. Knowing his abuela, she’d blame herself for his failing grades.

“Brianna told me about Ms. Martin,” she said. She grabbed a tissue from inside her blouse and blew her nose. “I called, but she didn’t answer. Once the storm passes, I’ll check on her. She’s not been feeling herself lately. I appreciate you stopping to make sure she was all right.”

“She grabbed his shoulders,” Brianna said.

Grandma winced and shook her head in disproval. “She shouldn’t have done that. Are you okay, mijo?”

“She seemed frightened,” Rafa said. “She warned me not to tell any ghost stories tonight because of a blood moon.”

A look of alarm spread over Abuela’s face. She glanced over at Abuelo, who was listening. “I thought she was over that.”

Abuelo shook his head. “I guess not.”

“Over what?” Rafa said.

“It’s nothing really, but since you enjoy a good scary story, you’ll appreciate it. When we were growing up, there were lots of stories about an unmarked grave in Grainsville Park. It was believed that if you told a scary story during the blood moon, the restless spirit buried there would be stirred awake and go after children.”

“Cool,” Rafa said, sitting up and soaking it in.

“Well, not so cool. Ms. Martin had a younger brother who died mysteriously in the park one summer. We’re talking way back in the 1970s. He was around your age … maybe ten. She always insisted that he was taken by an evil spirit that haunted Grainsville Park. Her family left town shortly after he died. Before you two came to live with us, she returned to her family home. I’m glad she’s back, but her behavior has become erratic. I went over to her house a couple of days ago and found her using one of those plastic Ouija boards they sell at the Dollar Store to communicate with her dead brother.”

“Did it work?” Brianna asked.

“Of course not, mi vida.” Abuela smiled lovingly at her. “Ouija boards are like your brother’s stories—they’re not real. They’re harmless fun and meant to entertain.” She took another sip of water. “And the blood moon is nothing more than a lunar eclipse. It doesn’t wake the dead.”

Abuelo playfully ruffled Rafa’s hair. “Sounds like the type of story you’d write, mijo. You’re so talented.”

Rafa mustered a slight smile. He didn’t feel talented. Right now, he felt like a disappointment because of his grades.

“Anyway, I’ll check on her later. In the meantime, do me a favor, Brianna,” Grandma said, pushing away from the table. “Could you dump the laundry basket on my bed and then collect your dirty clothes while I show Rafa what I’ve done to his old bedroom.”

Brianna nodded happily. “You’re not going to recognize the basement,” she said to Rafa. “It’s fancy enough to be in a magazine.”

He managed a slight excited nod as Brie left. He followed his abuela to the basement that was both a laundry room and his former bedroom. Abuela had asked him to give it up so that Nikki could use it. Now he was back to sharing a room with Brianna.

At the bottom of the stairs, his abuela turned to him with a nervous smile. “So, what do you think? Not too bad, eh?”

Brianna was right. The room looked totally different. The walls had been repainted a creamy white. There was a beige area rug under the twin bed made up with a yellow comforter and small decorative pillows. Atop the dresser was an old photograph of him, Nikki, and a newborn Brianna. In it, Nikki held Brianna on her lap while three-year-old Rafa leaned in to plant a kiss on baby Brianna’s forehead. Nikki’s jean jacket and white capris made her look like a kid herself. She had been a teenager when she was pregnant with Rafa and Brianna. They both had their mom’s dark hair and tan skin, but their hazel eyes were from a father they’d never met. Rafa tore his eyes from the picture to the wall, where his Ferrari race car poster had been replaced with a glass-framed tapestry that read, THE FUTURE IS UNWRITTEN.

“What’s that about?”

“I learned it in my parents’ group. I thought it’d be a good reminder for your mom.”

“I guess.” He shrugged.

Abuela pulled an envelope from her sweater pocket and held it out to him. “We need to talk, mijo.”

Rafa lowered his head in shame. “I’m sorry about school, Abuela. I really tried.”

Abuela looked perplexed and then understood the confusion. “No, not that letter. We’ll talk about school later. This is from your mom. She wants—”

Rafa raised his hands up in front of him like a wall, stopping his abuela mid-sentence. “I don’t care what Nikki wants. She’s a liar.”

Abuela slumped down at the edge of the bed and locked eyes with him. “She’s my only child,” she said firmly. “I want you to give her a chance. Her release is a blessing for us. She’s sober, drug-free, and she wants to find work and be part of this family again. I’ve prayed hard for this.”

Dread oozed through Rafa. There were those words again: Nikki’s early release was a “blessing.” He shook his head in disbelief. Why couldn’t she see that Nikki would flip their lives like a table and leave a disaster behind?

“I know this is hard for you,” she continued. “But please consider how your attitude toward your mom affects Brianna. She wants her mom, Rafa.”

Rafa shook his head. “She’s never said anything to me about it.”

“She doesn’t say anything because she’s afraid you’ll be mad at her, but she reads every letter Nicole writes to her. She even writes back.”

“I’ve never seen her do that,” Rafa insisted, clenching his fists.

“Because she hides it from you,” she said, taking his fist into her hands and gently unclenching it one finger at a time. “Breathe.”

He let out a deep angry breath, not slow like he was taught.

“Slower,” she said, breathing along with him this time.

He scowled, still upset.

“Listen, Brianna loves you more than the world. If you say your mom hasn’t changed, she’ll believe you. If you ask her to choose, she’ll choose you. Search your heart. Is that fair to her?”

Rafa wanted to scream that none of this was fair, and it was all Nikki’s fault. Moving in with his abuelos was the best thing that happened for him and Brianna. For the past two years, they never went to bed hungry, they ate dinner at a table, they arrived to school on time, and they didn’t have to carry their clothes around in trash bags. He wasn’t ready for Nikki to ruin it.

“I don’t want Brianna to get hurt.”

“I don’t want that either. I’m Nicole’s mom, but I’m your abuela too. While she’s here, there will be rules she’ll have to follow.”

“What kind of rules? Do I get to make some rules for her?”

“Sure, if that makes you feel better.”

Rafa liked the idea of Nikki having to follow rules, because he knew she’d break them. Then she’d be out of their lives as fast as she reappeared. Ghost mom. He just had to brace himself and Brianna for a couple of weeks.

“Her release date has been pushed to this coming week, that’s why I’ve been rushing to fix—”

Rafa bolted up, shocked by the news. “Abuela, no way. We have our overnight camp trip.” It was all happening so fast. Rafa wanted more time, although he wasn’t sure for what. To plot a runaway plan? He wasn’t sure.

“You guys will still go. When you come back, your mom will be settled in. You won’t be alone this time. We’ll be here. Plus, Ms. Martin has arranged for her family’s clinic to cover counseling sessions for us. That would help, no? We can talk with a professional—”

“Ms. Martin?” Rafa scoffed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “The woman who plays with Ouija boards?” He’d heard enough. “Abuela, Nikki is never going to change. You’re going to let her ruin everything!” Rafa rushed upstairs. At the top, he texted Jayden.

Is the tree house open?                 Always                                 omw                 It’s storming.                                 Don’t care.

RAFA SPED OFF ON HIS BIKE WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE. As thunder rumbled above, he wished he’d grabbed his grandpa’s rain poncho to shield him from the rain that felt like a hundred tiny whips against his face. Rafa passed Ms. Martin’s house. From there, he veered through the park. Going through the park was a shortcut to Jayden’s house, which was nestled in the affluent neighborhood of Parkside. Rafa took the dimly lit bike-and-running trail and sped past a playground that was suddenly lit up by a streak of lightning. He drove over a wooden bridge, where a creek surged below. The bridge led deeper into the woods, but Rafa took a left and headed uphill toward Jayden’s neighborhood. By the time he reached Jayden’s backyard he was the definition of drenched, and his legs burned from the uphill pedaling. He quickly leaned his bike against the tree and scrambled up into the shelter of the tree house.

“Dang, hermano! You’re wetter than Noah’s ark.” Jayden laughed, looking down at him from the tree house.

“I feel like I’ve been through a car wash,” Rafa said. “Please tell me you have a towel and an extra T-shirt.”

“I got you,” Jayden said, handing him a large beach towel. Rafa wiped down his face and ears and rubbed his hair, clothes, and shoes as dry as possible. In a flash, he switched out his wet shirt for one that smelled fresh from the dryer. He sank down onto a beanbag, relieved to be out of the rain but feeling crummy about how he left things with his grandma.

Above them, two hanging lights gave the small room a warm golden glow. Jayden’s tree house was tucked between the thick limbs of an old maple tree and looked out toward the woods. It was furnished with four beanbags and a built-in bench that also served as storage for supplies and snacks. Nailed to the wall was a framed poster of Jayden’s favorite baseball team and a crucifix. On another wall hung a hand-painted wooden sign that warned NO SISTERS ALLOWED! Jayden had three older sisters, Nayeli, who was in high school, and the twins Nora and Nilda, who were seventh graders. Jayden’s lucky baseball bat, which he named Saint Homer, leaned against the corner like it was bored.

“Only you’re nuts enough to be hanging out in a treehouse during a storm,” Rafa said as thunder rumbled.

“How about you? Riding out in the fog and rain? What’s up? School? Mom?” Jayden dug into the cooler and pulled out an icy cold can of root beer. He passed it to Rafa and plopped onto the beanbag across from him, letting his long legs unfurl.

“All the above,” Rafa admitted, opening the can. “I’m looking at five weeks of summer school.”

“Better than repeating sixth grade though.”

“And it’ll keep me out of the house when Nikki moves in. So that’s good.”

“Way to look on the bright side, hermano.” Jayden glanced across the yard as if something caught his eye. “Something is moving out there.” He grabbed a flashlight and got up to look from the ledge of the tree house.

“It’s a thunderstorm. Lots of things are moving out there,” Rafa said, joining him at the lookout ledge.

The downpour had tapered into a drizzle, but the wind howled wildly and tossed the outdoor furniture cushions like cotton balls across the lawn and into the woods.

“Mom is going to crucify me. I was supposed to store them, but the storm came on so fast.”

“I can help you gather the cushions tomorrow.”

“Thanks, hermano.” Jayden shone the flashlight over the backyard and into the woods. “Anyway, I should warn you that Cash texted earlier that he was coming over. That was like an hour ago. He might not show.”

Rafa frowned. Cash Ashford was a sixth grader too. At school, Jayden and Cash were friends, but Rafa didn’t care for him. During Rafa’s first week at his new school, Cash had snatched Rafa’s notebook in the cafeteria. It was full of scary stories and sketches. Cash read one of the stories aloud in a mocking voice. Maybe Cash wanted to embarrass Rafa, but instead the story caught Jayden’s attention. Jayden stood up, grabbed the notebook, and returned it to Rafa. Then Jayden introduced himself as a scary story lover and future Catholic saint. He insisted they were going to sit at lunch together every day. For that, Rafa thought, he should be grateful, but it was difficult to feel anything positive about Cash Ashford.

“You and Cash are cool now, right?” Jayden asked, dropping down into a beanbag. Rafa did the same.

“Not so much,” Rafa answered. “Why are you still friends with him?”

“Cash asked me the same thing about you.”

“What’d you say?”

“I told him the truth. You’re cool. And he should give you a chance.”

“I’ll pass.”

“I know he’s a jerk at school, but I try to be everyone’s friend. I pray for him.”

Rafa wondered if Jayden prayed for him too.

“Deep inside, Cash has a good heart. And you both like to tell scary stories. I believe scary stories will bring you together someday.”

Jayden was an eternal optimist, but Rafa shook his head, doubting that would ever happen. “That would take a miracle.”

“Well, maybe it would be my first saintly miracle. See! Already I’m one step closer to being canonized a saint. I need two miracles that the Vatican can confirm. Two doesn’t seem like a lot, right?”

Rafa scoffed. “Why do you want to be a saint? All of them die badly. Saint Joan of Arc was burned alive at a stake. Saint John the Baptist was beheaded.”

“And don’t forget Saint Bartholomew. He was skinned alive,” Jayden quipped, with a mischievous grin and raised eyebrows.

Rafa shook his head. The stories of saints, he thought, were a lot like the scary stories he told, but bloodier.

“Aye, dios mío!” Jayden exclaimed when a rock soared through the tree house window, miraculously missing his head. He got up and smiled wide at someone coming up into the tree house. “You finally showed up!”

Cash pulled his lanky body up into the tree house. Rafa filled with dread. He’d hoped Cash wouldn’t show up. Cash passed Rafa a quick nod before removing his windbreaker and flinging it on the bench, sending spurts of rain into Rafa’s face.

“Did you guys see the blood moon?” Cash asked. “You know what they say? The blood moon brings doom.”

“You’re the only one who says that.” Jayden smirked. “Check it out,” Jayden said to Rafa with a tinge of amazement as clouds drifted away, revealing a full moon with a reddish glow.

Rafa got up to get a better look. It was both beautiful and ominous.

“It’s the perfect night for a scary story,” Jayden said, nudging Rafa.

Rafa thought about Ms. Martin’s warning. He’d promised that he wouldn’t tell any scary stories but then again … his abuela said that Ms. Martin wasn’t herself lately. He looked back up at the red moon and shivered. Even though it was sticky hot, a sudden chill clung to his body like a shadow.

“I promised Ms. Martin that I wouldn’t tell any scary stories tonight,” Rafa said, plopping down into the beanbag beside Jayden. He felt silly even admitting it.

Cash snickered. “Why would you promise that witchy woman anything?”

Rafa didn’t like Cash’s tone, and it made him immediately want to defend Ms. Martin. “It seemed important to her. No reason for name-calling.”

“That’s right, Cash. Choose kind, remember?” Jayden said. “My parents say she’s a famous child psychiatrist. She’s written books and everything.”

“She’s a famous witch,” Cash said. “There are rumors that she goes into the woods to perform rituals.”

Rafa rolled his eyes. He despised rumors. Once, Cash spread the rumor that Rafa was good at telling scary stories because he worshipped the dark arts like a real-life Draco Malfoy. He also said that Rafa could set curses on people. It was a failed attempt to make everyone dislike Rafa. Instead, Rafa was swarmed daily by classmates who approached him with money to curse ex-friends, tattletale cousins, and a bunch of seventh graders. It worried Rafa how many of his classmates fell for Cash’s rumor. He was sorry to disappoint them and refused their money. Now all of them were his friends and didn’t trust Cash.

“Just one little story, please,” Jayden urged.

Rafa glanced up at the blood moon as a wind swooshed through the tree house whispering, Yesss … yessss …

“Long ago, on a night just like this, a blood moon hovered over Grainsville Park,” Rafa began, speaking low and clear as the story slid from his lips. “There were two kids in the park when they should have been home. They heard sobbing and followed it to a pond, where a girl was crying. When she saw them, she said her name was Tessa and that she needed their help to get her notebook from the bottom of the pond.

“One of the boys was feeling very brave and thought Tessa was cute. He agreed to jump into the pond to retrieve it. The brave boy didn’t see the wooden sign sticking up from the ground that warned, I’M WATCHING YOU. He removed his shoes and jumped into the pond. After a few seconds, the pond went still. It was as if the boy had never jumped in. From the distance, there was screaming. The boy’s friend called for him, but then the screaming stopped cold. The friend feared the worst.

“He was about to jump into the pond to find his friend when Tessa started to whisper, ‘One, two, the Caretaker’s coming for you. Three, four, you’ll breathe no more. Five, six, you’ll float like sticks. Seven, eight, you’ll meet your fate. Nine, ten, the Caretaker comes again.’

“He ran out of the woods as fast as he could. Later that night, when he returned with adults, the pond and the crying girl were gone. The only thing they found was the missing boy’s shoes strewn on the ground and the wooden sign, which now read, I WARNED YOU, signed THE CARETAKER, in dripping red paint.”

ONCE RAFA FINISHED TELLING HIS STORY, THE lights flickered until it plunged the boys into darkness. The tree house creaked low and deep as a harsh wind sliced through, swiping everything off the walls and onto the floor in a violent crash.

“Everyone okay?” Jayden asked.

Rafa blinked a few times, forcing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. “I’m good,” he answered, trying hard to swallow the trembling in his voice. He got up from the beanbag and immediately stepped on something that crunched under his wet shoes. “Careful, there’s glass everywhere.”

Outside the tree house, the wind moaned and fog swarmed the backyard, reaching for the tree house like skeletal fingers.

“What just happened?” Cash muttered.

“I don’t know, but the lights aren’t working.” Jayden’s voice dripped with urgency as he pulled desperately at the light switch.

Rafa turned to help him and almost tripped on a fallen frame. He gently nudged it aside and grabbed the pull switch from Jayden. He jiggled it and tugged some more.

Cash tried next, but nothing changed. “They’re shot.”

Suddenly, the lights flicked on, revealing busted frames and glass all over the tree house floor.

“What a mess,” Jayden sighed. The three boys silently cleaned up with a small broom and dustpan. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve got serious heebie-jeebies.”

“Same,” Rafa answered. “I should go. My abuelos are probably worried.”

“You can’t go,” Jayden said. “It’s not safe out there.”

Rafa knew Jayden was right. As much as he wanted to leave, he was stuck until the fog disappeared. “I’ll text them.”

“Good idea,” Jayden said, tossing Rafa a bag of chips. He opened one for himself. “Better to stay in place until the fog clears. We can ride out the storm in style, but no more scary stories. I’m way tense right now.”

“But I’ve got a good one,” Cash said. “You guys won’t want to sleep after you hear about Furry Toe.”

Jayden burst into laughter, spitting out root beer. Rafa stifled a laugh.

“What’s so funny? It’s scary,” Cash said, looking offended. “It creeps under your bedcovers during the night.”

Jayden laughed harder, and Rafa couldn’t help but laugh too.

“I’m sorry, Cash. On one hand, I’m dying to know why a furry toe creeps under bedcovers, but …” Jayden chuckled. “One story is enough. I don’t care if you think I’m chicken. It’s my tree house. My rules.”

Rafa caught a glare from Cash and ignored it. It wasn’t his fault that Jayden didn’t want to hear any more scary stories. After a few seconds of quiet, Rafa could feel Cash’s angry gaze burning a hole into the side of his head. Rafa braced himself. Inhale. Exhale.

“So, Rafa,” Cash said. “I heard that you failed sixth grade.”

“Cash!” Jayden protested. “Not cool.”

“What?” Cash asked innocently.

Inside, Rafa felt sick that Cash knew about his bad grades. Wasn’t this stuff supposed to be private?

“Look, I’m not trying to cause drama. My uncle is in charge of the trip, and he said kids with bad grades can’t go.”

“What? No way, Cash,” Jayden objected, shaking his head. “There’s no rule like that.”

“Now there is,” Cash answered. “Everyone knows that the camp trip is meant as a reward. It’s only for the cream of the crop.”

Rafa swallowed a knot forming in his throat. He wasn’t cream of the crop. Whatever that meant. He was more like a bruised apple. Still, he hoped Cash was just being a jerk and what he was saying wasn’t true.

“Cash, can’t you do something?” Jayden asked. “Rafa had a bad year. That’s all.”

“I’ll see,” Cash said, looking away.

Jayden passed a hopeful smile to Rafa, but Rafa could tell by the way Cash turned away that there’d be no camping trip. He glanced up at the blood moon, feeling his own face reddening. Why had he allowed himself to believe he’d ever get to be a normal kid doing normal kid stuff? He should have known that people like Cash’s family would never stop looking at him as the kid with the prison mom. For Rafa, it was a curse that stuck like gum on the bottom of his shoe.

His phone pinged. He had missed a bunch of calls from his grandma. He knew he’d have to big-time apologize as soon as he returned home. There was also a text from Grandpa’s phone, which was really from Brianna.

It’s me.

Where are you?

Please come back.

Rafa’s heart twisted in his chest. Even if his chance to go on the overnight was ruined, he had to make sure that Brianna could still go. He couldn’t let his bad grades keep Brianna from being happy. If he did that, then he’d be no better than Nikki. Just then, Brianna’s voice called out. He twisted around and looked down through the tree house window.

“Rafa! I know you’re up there!”

It was her voice, but he couldn’t see her.

“Brianna?” he answered. Through the fog, he made out a beam of light and her form. She wore a black trash bag as a rain poncho. Suddenly a streak of lightning lit up Jayden’s backyard, revealing what looked like a dark shadowy figure rising from the fog behind her.

“Brianna!” he shouted. “Who came with you? Who’s that? Abuelo?”

Brianna frantically spun around, blazing the flashlight left and right, unable to see what Rafa saw. “I came b-by myself,” she stammered.

Rafa careened down the tree house ladder. His heart raced faster than his feet could move. Brianna caught Rafa right in the face with the flashlight. He grabbed it from her and pulled her close. He thrust the flashlight into the fog like a sword.

“Who’s there?!” he shouted.

Brianna stiffened against him. “What’s going on?”

“Everything okay?” Jayden was suddenly next to them, hoisting his lucky baseball bat. “What’d you see?”

Cash was there too. When Rafa didn’t answer Jayden right away, Cash snickered something about Rafa’s loony behavior. Rafa ignored him. He knew what he saw, but whoever or whatever it was, was gone now. Rafa exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath for days.

“You okay, Brianna?” Jayden asked.

Brianna smiled weakly.

“We’re going home,” Rafa said. “Talk tomorrow, bro.”

“Text me when you get home,” Jayden called out as they walked away.

“You sound like my abuela,” Rafa yelled back, retrieving his bike.

“Yeah, well, your abuela is a smart lady.”

Through the ghostly fog, Rafa and Brianna walked down the hill and toward the park. He felt on high alert, watching and listening for any sign of the shadowy figure he’d seen. Why was he the only one who had seen it? Maybe it was a simple trick of light and fog?

“What’s gotten into you walking in this storm in a trash bag? Does Grandma know you’re here?” Rafa asked with a tone that was harsher than he intended. The sight of Brianna wearing a black trash bag reminded him of all the times they shoved everything they owned into one and moved from place to place.

“I don’t have a raincoat anymore … ,” she said softly and tugged at the trash bag to cover her head from the steady drizzle of rain. “I haven’t had one for a while.”

Rafa made a mental note to buy her a raincoat at the City Thrift.

“I snuck out our window.”

Rafa scoffed. He couldn’t believe it. Not only had she walked in the storm by herself, but she’d snuck out.

“You can’t sneak out and walk around in a storm like this. Super dangerous. You know better, Brie.”

“You’re out in the storm.”

“I arrived before the fog. Once the fog hit, I stayed in place. It’s not safe.”

“I know, but I found your notebook and read the story about the boy who ran away because his mom turned into a monster,” she explained. “It worried me because I know you don’t want Nikki to live with us, but you can’t run away.”

“It’s just a story that I turned in for extra credit. I’m not running away. You’re stuck with me, okay?”

Brie nodded and passed him a slight smile. Rafa felt bad. After everything they’d been through with Nikki, didn’t Brianna know he’d never leave her? As they walked, thunder rumbled.

“At least your story had a happy ending,” she said. “The blueberry pancakes were a nice touch.”

In the story, the boy goes to see a witch about a book that is full of magic words. He makes a deal with the witch and she gives him the magic words that will stop his mom from being a monster. He sneaks back into the house, and while the monster sleeps, he whispers them. The monster wakes up as his loving mom and makes him blueberry pancakes for breakfast.

“Maybe we can find a magic word for Nikki,” Brianna said softly.

Rafa shook his head. “There are no magic words, Brie.”

“I think some words can be magical,” she said, glancing up at the dark sky. “Look! The moon is resplendent. Blood red just like Ms. Martin said it would be.”

“Resplen— What?” Rafa glimpsed at the moon. It looked redder than before. “C’mon, let’s take the trail near the playground.”

He saddled his bike. Brianna took a seat on the handlebars. They rode through the fog that floated around them like a thin white veil.

When they reached the playground, the park lights flickered and let out a dull drone like a deep voice humming. Rafa slowed as he strained to see under the patchy lights. Somewhere in the dark, a cat yowled.

“Do you hear that?” Brianna whispered, fumbling with the flashlight that wouldn’t turn on. “Dumb dead battery.”

Rafa stopped to pull his cell phone from his pocket. Without warning, a cat sprung out of fog, landing on Brie with a screech. Rafa and Brianna both let out startled yelps. It was the same cat with the golden collar and eyes they’d seen earlier at Ms. Martin’s house and later sitting outside their yard.

“Poor gatito,” Brianna said, clutching the wet shivering cat. “It’s trembling, Rafa. Like really trembling. Something scared it.”

“Dang thing, scared me to death!” Rafa complained.

Just then came a clanging sound from the playground. Every hair on Rafa’s body stood straight up. He blazed his cell phone light over the playground equipment, stopping at the swings that whipped back and forth as if invisible children were on them.

“I’m going to check it out,” Rafa said, dismounting the bike.

Brianna hopped off and reached for him. “What are you doing?”

“Stay here.”

“No way. I’m going with you,” she said, holding the cat close to her chest.

They stepped through the muddy grass toward the swing set. As they approached, the swinging came to an abrupt stop. “How’d it do that?” Brie asked, backing up. She tugged at Rafa’s hand. “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” Rafa muttered, but he felt stuck as if the mud was quicksand tightening around his feet.

The trees rustled and there was the crunch of movement. The cat let out a low, guttural growl and wriggled from Brianna’s arms. It bolted in front of them, its fur spiked up along its arched back and its golden eyes blazed toward the woods. It hissed into the darkness.

“It sees something,” Brianna whispered. “I think I see it too.”

“Where?”

“There.” She pointed with a trembling finger at a darkblur between a bunch of trees. “It moved.”

Rafa could only make out fog until the dark blur crawled.

Rafa pulled Brianna away. “We gotta go.”

The cat let out one last vicious yowl and padded ahead of them to the bike.

“Quick,” Rafa said, mounting the bike. Brianna scooted on behind him and he passed her his cell phone. “Be my light.”

Rafa kicked off as the cat darted ahead, its little bell ringing through the fog and leading them out of the park. When they reached their neighborhood, the fog faded, and the cat tore off toward Ms. Martin’s house. It darted up the driveway, disappearing into the night and leaving them with only the angry glow of the blood moon to guide them home.

LATER, AFTER A NIGHTTIME SNACK SERVED WITH A stern talk from their grandparents about running off during a storm, Rafa and Brianna collapsed on their twin beds. Their beds sat at opposite sides of the room, divided by two dressers. Rafa stared out the window and watched as the trees swayed under the force of the harsh wind. At times, the branches looked like hands clawing at the air.

It’s possible, he thought, that the shadowy figure he saw behind Brianna was the fog and wind. But what about the swings? He’d already decided that the dark blur they saw moving between the trees was an animal. It could have been a fox, or even a deer. But swings don’t whip around and come to a full stop by themselves. Just thinking about it sent shivers up his spine.

“Rafa,” Brianna called out. “Shouldn’t we have told Abuela about the swings and the cat hissing into the dark?”

“We can tell her tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she said softly, reaching for her lamp and then hesitating. “Is it okay if I leave the light on for a while?”

“Fine by me.”

Outside the bedroom window, the porchlight cast a yellowish glow. He grabbed his notebook and flipped to a blank page. Although he knew he should sleep, he felt wide awake. He hoped writing down his story about the murderous caretaker would ease the anxiousness that pulsated through him ever since they left the park.

“I can’t relax,” Brianna mumbled. “Can you tell me a happy story?”

“You know I don’t do happy,” he answered as a sleek shadow glided by the window. He put down his pen. “Hey, the cat is back,” Rafa said as Ms. Martin’s cat gently headbutted the screen window as if it wanted to come inside.

Brianna rushed over and sat on his bed. She placed her palm against the screen and spoke softly.

“I bet you can’t sleep either, huh?”

The cat rubbed against the screen, showing off its petal-shaped markings.

“Pretty cat. It looks like a baby jaguar. Don’t you think?”

Outside Parkside Elementary, where Brianna went to school, there was a mural of a jaguar baring its fangs. To Rafa, it looked more like a fierce mascot for a band of pirates than an elementary school.

“Can we let him in?” Brianna pleaded. “Just lift the bottom and the screen pops out.”

Rafa passed her a disapproving look. “You know we can’t. Anyway, I just got an idea for a story about a cat that turns into a jaguar.” He grabbed his pen.

“I want to hear it.”

“I thought you said you wanted a happy story?”

“You write happy endings all the time. Just make this one a happy beginning, happy middle, and happy ending.”

“Fine,” he said.

He couldn’t ever say no to Brianna. If she demanded a happy story about a jaguar, he’d try his best.

“Let me get comfy first,” she said, grabbing the quilt from her bed and spreading it out on Rafa’s bed.

He was a little annoyed that she was taking up his bed, but not really.

“I’m ready,” Brianna said.

Rafa sketched a cat in his notebook and then closed his eyes. “There’s a cat that lives in the woods, and whenever a blood moon appears, it becomes a mighty jaguar that stalks the streets of our neighborhood. It looks for children who sneak out of their homes. On a night like tonight, the jaguar saw a girl sneaking out of her bedroom. The jaguar crept up behind her and let out the most ferocious growl. The girl screamed and scrambled back inside her room. When she looked out, the jaguar was gone … so she thought.

“After a few minutes, she heard a noise outside her bedroom door. Scraaaaatch! Scraaaaatch! Scraaaaatch!”

“Oh no,” Brianna groaned, pulling the quilt over her head. “Paws not claws.”

“The girl hid under her quilt and tried to stay as quiet as possible, but the jaguar knew she was there. It burst through her bedroom door. ‘Wha-aaaat do you want?’ she wailed from under her blankets. The jaguar flared its sharp canines and stepped closer. It was so close the girl could feel its warm breath against her face. She closed her eyes, knowing this was the end. The jaguar snarled and pounced, ‘Aaaaaaah! I want you to sleep in your own bed!’ ” Rafa growled, tickling Brianna until she managed to squirm away.

She snatched her quilt off his bed. The cat was no longer by the window. “You scared the cat.”

Rafa shrugged. “That’s why they call them scaredy-cats. Anyway, the jaguar helped the girl go to bed. Happy ending,” Rafa said, pleased with himself.

“You and I have very different definitions of a happy story,” she said, switching off the lamp. “Good night.”

“Sleep tight. Don’t let the jaguar bite.” Rafa tucked himself under his covers and chuckled.

“How do you do that?” Brie asked. “Come up with a story so fast?”

“It just happens.”

“I really thought you’d come up with a happy story this time, but you can’t help yourself, can you?”

“I guess not,” Rafa answered. “Go to sleep.” He stared up at the ceiling, thinking about her question. For as long as he could remember, he’d been able to make up scary stories. Most of the time, his stories surfaced fast and fierce, devouring pages like a brain-eating zombie. Other times, it was like the stories were buried alive in his head, screaming to get out, but it took a lot of digging. Other times, he felt like Dr. Frankenstein, tinkering for days with a story until he felt it was ready to creep on its own.

That night’s stories were different. The stories about the Caretaker and the jaguar were like gifts handed to him by the blood moon.

He thought back to Ms. Martin’s warning earlier that day. He did a quick Google search of blood moons on his phone, which confirmed what his abuela said. The blood moon was a lunar eclipse. Still awesome, but just a celestial phenomenon that occurred for a short time when Earth, the moon, and the sun lined up. As he read more, he stumbled across blogs and websites claiming that the blood moon signaled chaos and evil. The articles went on and on and turned creepier. He shuddered. Even though he knew he couldn’t trust everything on the internet, the blood moon was in his head now. He put away his phone, more restless than sleepy. After a few seconds of staring at the ceiling, he did what he always did when he couldn’t sleep. He wrote. He wrote the jaguar story and then he wrote about the girl at the pond and the Caretaker who was always watching. When he finally dozed off, Rafa dreamed that the ghostly caretaker was outside his window whispering, “One, two, I’m coming for you …”

A WOMAN’S VOICE FROM THE LIVING ROOM WOKE Rafa up. He peered over at Brianna’s bed. As usual, she was already up and her bed was made. He felt a prick to his thigh under his comforter. For a second, he thought of Cash’s story about the furry toe that crept under bedcovers during the night. He lifted the bedcover and found his pen. Next to his bed, on the nightstand, his notebook was neatly laid opened on the completed blood moon story. At the top of the page was a purple scribbled note from Brianna.

Petrifying! Why is there no happy

ending? What happened to the brave

boy in the pond? Doesn’t he come

out to save the day?

“Petrifying?” Rafa droned drowsily. Where did she find these words?

Just then, the woman’s voice spoke again, and the front door closed. The voice sounded vaguely like Ms. Martin. He peeked out the window and saw her fancy white Bentley parked curbside. Her driver opened the passenger door for her, and then they drove away. Rafa pulled on track shorts and a T-shirt. He found Brianna and his grandma at the kitchen table already eating breakfast. His grandpa stood at the stove, scrambling eggs.

“Why was Ms. Martin here?” Rafa asked.

“One of her cats is missing,” Brianna answered. “The same one we saw last night. Its name is Balam.”

“I hate to see her so worried,” Grandma said in between sips of coffee. “Her cats run off all the time. I’m not sure why she’s so stressed this time.”

“Maybe it’s her favorite cat,” Brianna speculated.

Grandpa put a plate of eggs, Mexican rice, and a tortilla down on the table. “Sit down, mijo.”

“Gracias, Abuelo.” Rafa sat and grabbed the hot sauce to drizzle on his eggs. He filled the warm tortilla with eggs and a slice of turkey bacon, turning his meal into a breakfast taco. One of the best parts of living with their abuelos was that on weekends, Abuelo made them yummy Mexican dishes like chilaquiles, huevos rancheros, and homemade flour tortillas. When Rafa and Brianna lived with Nikki, they were lucky if they got a frosted Pop-Tart for breakfast.

“Rafa told me a story about a jaguar last night,” Brianna said, scooping up scrambled eggs with a fork. “It was supposed to be a happy story.”

“We heard you shriek,” Grandma said with a chuckle.

Rafa laughed. “I came up with two scary stories last night.”

“Two?” Abuelo said, raising his eyebrows and taking a seat at the table.

“I know! I’ve never written two in one night before. First there was the Caretaker story. It gave Jayden the heebie-jeebies. It’s about these kids who go to the park and—”

“Wait! You shared it with Jayden?” Brianna asked. “You didn’t tell any stories in the tree house, did you? We weren’t supposed to, remember? We promised Ms. Martin.”

“No, he read it,” Rafa lied, and he instantly felt bad. “From my notebook.”

“Now that I think about it,” Abuela said, “the first thing Ms. Martin asked me this morning was if you had told any scary stories last night. I said I didn’t think so, and she said good, because if you did, she’d teach you a lesson.”

Rafa dropped his breakfast taco onto his plate. “What?”

Abuela stared back at him, then she clapped excitedly. “Got you!”

“Abuelaaa,” he moaned.

She stood up and kissed the top of his head. “The look on your face was priceless.”

He shook his head. He couldn’t believe Abuela punked him. Just then his phone pinged. It was Jayden.

“Is it okay if I go over to Jayden’s? I promised to help him with something.”

“Fine by me.” Grandma shrugged. “I have to get to work.” She stood up, already fully dressed in her post office clothes. “But be careful, your grandpa took his morning walk, and the storm left a mess.”

“There are lots of tree limbs down,” Abuelo said. “Take it slow and watch the road.”

Brianna put her plate in the sink. “I’m coming with you. I can keep an eye out for Balam.”

With Brianna riding on the handlebars, Rafa pedaled fast to meet Jayden at the park. The bike trail was covered in mud and scattered with tree branches just like his abuelo warned. A flock of black birds burst from the surrounding trees, startling Rafa. Suddenly Brianna screamed as the bike skidded in the mud and careened straight into a thick tree limb blocking the trail. The jolt sent them tumbling into a slushy mix of mud and grass.

“Brianna, are you okay?” Rafa asked, pushing himself up while Brianna moaned painfully. “Are you hurt?”

“My wrist,” she said. She eased herself up, gripping her arm. “I landed on it hard.”

“Let me see.” Rafa took her petite wrist in his hand. “Can you move it?”

Brianna shook her head. “It really hurts. Didn’t you see that huge tree limb?”

“I’m sorry, Brie. I saw it too late.” He helped her up on her feet. “Should we go home, or can you keep going?”

Brie looked uncertain.

“Jayden’s parents are doctors. They’ll know what to do.”

Brianna nodded.

“I’ll text Jayden to make sure they’re home.” Rafa grabbed for his phone, but it wasn’t in his pocket. His eyes darted across the muddy ground until he spotted it. When he snatched it up, there was a large crack across the screen. He groaned and began to text Jayden when a message popped up.

One, two, he’s coming for you.

Rafa fell silent as the message vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Rafa answered, stuffing the phone in his pocket. “Let’s just go.”

“Look at your bike, Rafa,” she said sadly. The bike’s front wheel was flat and bent, and the chain was splayed out in the muddy grass like roadkill. Rafa’s grandparents had bought the bike at a garage sale the past summer, and it had been patched up hundreds of times already. Now, Rafa worried it was beyond repair.

“Abuelo can fix anything,” Brianna said in an upbeat tone. “Don’t worry.”

Rafa nodded, but his mind was somewhere else. The message was straight out of his scary story. As much as he wanted to check his phone again to see if it was still there, he didn’t dare. He took a shaky breath. His heart pounded inside his chest like a tiny fist.

“Let’s just get going,” he said, scooping his bike off the ground along with the broken parts.

Brianna cradled her wrist and watched him with a curious gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Once they reached the playground, Jayden was waiting for them atop the playground’s castle play set, which had a slide, monkey bars, and a rope wall that little kids climbed. “Dude, what happened to your bike?” Jayden shouted. He slid down the slide and rushed to them.

“We crashed,” Rafa answered. “Brie hurt her wrist.”

“Ouch! May I see?” Jayden asked, reaching for Brianna’s wrist. “Come sit here.” Jayden led her to a bench.

Both his parents were doctors, and so Jayden always seemed to know what to do when there were accidents. This was another thing that Rafa liked about him. He’d once seen Jayden stop a kid’s bloody nose at school. While Jayden inspected Brianna’s wrist, Rafa looked back at the swings that had swung themselves the night before.

“This is sad,” Brianna said. “This bench is dedicated to a girl named Tessa.”

Rafa’s heart thumped hard. Tessa? Brianna read the dedication aloud.

“Find me in the park

I will read you a story

That will set us free.”

In loving memory of our beloved poet Tessa

Sept. 9, 1962–June 8, 1974

“It’s like the scary story you told us last night. Wasn’t the ghost girl named Tessa?” Jayden asked.

Before Rafa could explain, Brianna flashed her hazel eyes at Rafa, hard and accusingly.

“You said you didn’t tell any scary stories in the tree house,” she said incredulously.

Jayden looked away, uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” Rafa winced. “I knew you’d be mad because you believed Ms. Martin’s nonsense.”

“A promise is not nonsense.” Brianna scowled. “And we said we’d never lie to each other, remember?”

Rafa felt instantly bad. No matter how tough life became, he always told Brianna the truth. This was their promise to each other since Nikki lied to them constantly. Nikki would say she was going to be gone for a few minutes, and she’d disappear all day. She’d say she was going to change, and then they’d find bottles. She’d say they’d stay at the shelter until she got a job, and then they’d be kicked out. The best way he could describe living with Nikki and her lies was like being on a roller coaster with someone who refused to use the lap bar.

Brianna’s face twisted as she held her wrist. “You broke your promise, and now you almost broke my wrist.”

Rafa’s shoulders slumped. He felt like the worst brother on the planet. “I’m sorry, Brie, but I also told you a story about a jaguar last night, so you can’t be that mad at me.”

“I wanted a happy story. You’re the one who made it scary. And one more thing, you don’t get to tell me how mad I should be.”

“Hey, guys,” Jayden jumped in. “I feel awful that I opened my big mouth, but we should go. Brianna’s wrist is starting to swell. Can you hold it higher, Brie? Higher than your heart?”

Brianna followed his advice.

“That will slow it down. My mom is home. She’ll want to ice it and wrap it. Anyway, let’s go. It looks bad.”

“It feels bad,” Brianna answered, shooting an angry glance at Rafa.

As Jayden and Brianna walked together ahead, Rafa followed, clumsily hauling his wrecked bike and thinking about the disturbing message on his phone. The whole park felt suddenly unfriendly. It was as if the storm had left behind something more dangerous than just broken tree branches and mud.

WHILE JAYDEN’S MOM, DR. LEAL, INSPECTED Brianna’s wrist, Jayden’s three sisters hovered, eager to assist. Dr. Leal confirmed the bad sprain and sent the girls to grab Tylenol, an ice pack, and a bunch of pillows.

“Take it easy and keep it iced for the next two hours,” Dr. Leal said. “I’ve texted Dr. Leal to bring home a splint. Meanwhile, maybe you girls can watch a movie? I’ll call your abuelo and let him know.”

Nayeli brought out an ice pack and strapped it gently on Brianna’s wrist. Nora hauled out pillows and soft furry blankets to prop up Brie’s wrist and make her comfortable on the couch. Nilda rushed from the kitchen with Tylenol, Twizzlers, and chocolate pretzels. Rafa was relieved. Jayden’s sisters were pampering Brie as if she were family.

“We’ll take care of her,” Nayeli chirped.

Rafa felt suddenly out of place. He was the one who always took care of Brianna. He glanced at Brie, chomping into a Twizzler. Did she want him to leave?

“Are you good?” he asked.

“Yes, but I’m still mad at you,” she said. “Not for crashing. That was an accident. I’m angry that you lied to me.”

Jayden’s sisters narrowed their eyes at him so severely that he felt like he should get on his knees and start apologizing to all of them.

“I’ll make it up to you, Brie,” Rafa said.

“C’mon, we’ve got cushions to find.” Jayden yanked Rafa away.

Rafa was relieved to get out of the room. Jayden’s sisters glaring at him didn’t feel good. They crossed the patio and sloshed across Jayden’s backyard toward the fence. Jayden carried his drone under his arm. He unlatched the fence’s gate, and they stepped into the woods. He set up his drone on an even patch of ground and quickly connected his phone to the remote.

“This is my third drone. If I crash this one, my parents will have me beheaded.”

Rafa snorted and shook his head. Jayden loved any excuse to use his drone. Within seconds, it was hovering and already capturing images of the woods on the phone’s screen. It was all trees and brush until Jayden spotted the small square cushion.

“Gotcha!” Jayden exclaimed. “It’s about sixty feet away. Let’s bring it home.”

The boys treaded through the muddy woods, finding the small red pillow nestled between bushes.

Jayden handed Rafa the remote and dipped his hands between the bushes. “I guess I should have checked for poison ivy first.”

“Too late,” Rafa said.

“Aaaagh! My hand! Help, Rafa!” Jayden screamed, wriggling and thrashing about like the bush was a flesh-eating alien. “Adios, sweet world!”

Rafa rolled his eyes at Jayden’s over-the-top performance. “Quit it.”

Jayden broke out into laughter. “I had you for a second.”

“Nope.” Rafa flew the drone farther out. He tried to focus, but he kept going back and forth about whether to tell Jayden about the strange message that popped up on his phone. For all of Jayden’s flighty talk about being a saint someday, he was the most reasonable kid Rafa had ever met, with a sensible answer for everything.

“You know how I told you that Ms. Martin warned me not to tell any scary stories last night?”

Jayden nodded that he was listening.

“What if she knew something. I mean she predicted a blood moon last night; maybe she can predict other things.” Just hearing himself made Rafa cringe. “And there’s a bench dedicated to a girl named Tessa, just like in my story. Can’t just be coincidence, you know?”

“Anyone with an almanac can predict a lunar eclipse,” Jayden answered. “As for the bench …” He shrugged. “You must have seen it before, and it stayed in your subconscious or something.”

Rafa shook his head. “I swear I’ve never seen it before.” Rafa wasn’t sure he should mention the message on his phone because he had no proof. “Everything feels off in the park … like something evil is lurking. You didn’t feel it?”

“Well, as you know, Mr. Future Stephen King, the thing with scary stories is once you hear them, everything becomes creepy. Water dripping from a pipe becomes a tiny gargoyle buried alive under the house tapping its way out. Any slight scrape against the window becomes a killer clown who escaped from hell’s prison. With just a little boost, the imagination can run wild like a pack of sled puppies and take us for a ride off a cliff. By the way, those are all stories from your notebook.”

Rafa let out a frustrated huff. He knew those stories sounded familiar.

“A real-life example now,” Jayden continued. “I didn’t want to admit this, but this morning something scratched my shin under the bedcovers. My mind went straight to Cash’s stupid Furry Toe story.”

“He ended up telling it?”

“Yeah. He told me the whole creepy story.”

Rafa snorted. “What was scratching your leg?”

“My rosary. I slept with it last night.”

Rafa laughed in relief. He felt better. Maybe it was his imagination running wild. “I think I’ll take a break from telling scary stories.”

“Well, until camp, anyway,” Jayden reminded him. “I can’t wait. I’m so ready to see everyone’s faces when you tell the Caretaker story.”

Rafa nodded, but after everything Cash said to him in the tree house, he wasn’t as optimistic as Jayden. “I don’t think I’ll get to go. You heard what Cash said last night.”

“Cash is full of hot air. I pray for him,” Jayden said. “You’re going.”

“Second cushion,” Rafa said, showing the screen to Jayden. “It’s east of us, by a neighbor’s fence.”

“I’ll save you, little red pillow!” Jayden howled and scrambled off like he was charging after gold. Rafa kept the drone hovering high above the pillow. He watched and waited for Jayden to show up on the screen. After a few minutes, Jayden still didn’t, and the woods went silent. A sudden strange chill filled the air and gave Rafa goose bumps.

“Jayden!” Rafa called out. “Hurry up already.”

Above in the trees, a flock of black grackles with long tails squawked. Rafa focused on the screen. Any minute, Jayden should come shooting across it. But after a few more minutes, he didn’t.

“Where are you, dude?” Rafa said with irritation.

Suddenly, from the corner of the screen, a head of dark hair crept into view.

“What are you doing?” he said with amusement. He was certain that Jayden was trying to scare him again.

Then a bony white hand reached for the pillow next to the fence. Rafa’s heart raced. That hand wasn’t Jayden’s. Jayden had thick gargantuan hands, made for clutching a baseball bat.

“What the heck?” With trembling fingers, Rafa managed to zoom out on a sickly pale kid, covered in muddy clothes. He was barefoot and crouched down in the grass and dirt. His dark hair was matted around his face. The boy dragged the pillow toward him and then smiled directly at the drone. The screen went black.

“No, no, no!” Rafa groaned. Clumsily he shifted the antennas. He disconnected and reconnected the phone. Still, there was no activity nor any sign of Jayden.

“Jayden!” Rafa called out, panicked and confused. He trudged through the soupy high grass as quick as he could. He had to find Jayden.

Just then, the screen blinked like it was coming back online. A message appeared.

THREE, FOUR, YOU’LL BREATHE

NO MORE.

Rafa dropped the control into a puddle of mud.

“Run,” whispered a boy’s voice.

Rafa couldn’t tell where it was coming from. “Jayden?” Rafa’s eyes were glued to the fog that had begun to rise from between the trees in front of him. The air turned cold and he began to shiver. “Is that you?”

“Run,” the voice whispered again.

“Jayden! Where are you?” he hollered.

Something rustled in the bushes. He tried to catch his breath and listen.

“Jayden!”

“I’m here!” Jayden answered, stepping forward holding the drone and the cushions. “What happened bro?” Jayden picked up the remote from the ground. “I found my drone in the mud and now my remote is … hey, are you okay? You look like you’re going to puke.”

“I saw a kid out there,” Rafa said, trying to control the shaking in his voice, but it was hopeless. “Did you see him?”

“I didn’t see anyone,” Jayden answered. “What’s going on?”

“I swear a kid showed up on the screen. He grabbed the pillow. Then everything went offline except for a freaky message that showed up on the screen.”

“What kind of freaky message?’

“ ‘Three, four, you’ll breathe no more.’ ”

Jayden narrowed his eyes and then laughed. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m being serious,” Rafa said. “Check the drone.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m going to have to clean it up and reboot it first,” Jayden said, wiping mud off the remote and fiddling with the controls. “No use. Lost connection. Anyway, the kid you saw was probably a neighbor. The little stinker probably took the pillow and then saw me coming and tore off.”

Rafa inhaled sharply. “He looked dead,” Rafa said. “He had no shoes on. What kind of kid goes into the woods with no shoes on?”

“A maniac kid,” Jayden said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Parkside is full of them.”

Rafa wanted Jayden to believe him, but he had no way to prove any of it. “Just check the recording, okay? Let me know what you see.”

“Sure,” Jayden answered.

They headed back in the direction of Jayden’s house. Rafa held on to the cushions and remained quiet as questions swirled in his head wild and fast like a twister. He was desperately trying to grasp a rational explanation for what he had seen.

“Are you all right?” Jayden asked. “I mean, you cracked your phone, busted your bike, and now the drone. For the rest of the day, you should stay away from all vehicles and technology. Just saying.” He nudged Rafa playfully.

A sense of doom overwhelmed Rafa. “Ever since that blood moon appeared … ,” he muttered, but then stopped himself from saying more.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Rafa answered, knowing everything he’d said at this point sounded unhinged. He took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. He hoped the kid showed up on the recording so that Jayden would believe him, but then … if he did show up, who was he? What did he want?

*  *  *

The remainder of the day, Rafa checked his phone for messages from Jayden, but there was nothing, which worried and frustrated him. Had he made a fool of himself? Later that night, every time Rafa closed his eyes, he saw the boy crouching in the woods and heard the voice whispering for him to run. As Rafa drowsed off, he knew he had to return to the woods and find him.

After what felt like only a few minutes, Rafa sat up in bed. He glanced over at Brianna. She was conked out. He popped open the window screen and stepped out of the bedroom window and into the summer night. He walked to the park and headed for the playground. Once there, he found the swings rocking back and forth. Above him, the park light glowed a pale yellow as an icy breeze blew over him. He stood at the bench dedicated to Tessa and shivered. Behind him, something stirred. He turned around. Staring back at him from a few feet away was a black grackle. It tilted its head and let out a screech from its curved beak. It drew closer, popping its wings and unfolding itself like a cardboard box until it was no longer a bird but the boy Rafa had seen crouching in the woods. Dripping wet and sickly pale, the boy crawled toward him, opening and closing his mouth.

Rafa scooted back and fell against the bench. He wanted to run, but he felt pinned down by invisible hands.

“Why did you tell the story?” the boy murmured, slinking closer. “ ‘One, two, he’s coming for you. Three, four, you’ll breathe no more.’ ”

The ghostly boy hovered over Rafa. “Run!” he screamed.

*  *  *

Rafa shot straight up in bed, woken by his own screaming.

“Rafael,” Abuela said, taking his face between her hands. “You’re safe with us. Breathe, mijo.”

He gazed around the room. His abuelo was at the bedroom door with a worried look.

Brianna patted his shoulder, whispering gently, “It’s okay. It’s all right.”

“Breathe, mijo,” Abuela urged again.

He inhaled and exhaled sharply. “It was just a bad dream,” he muttered through choppy breath. He felt a little embarrassed, although he’d had nightmares before. When he first moved in with his abuelos, he had them almost nightly, but those were nightmares of Nikki being dragged away from him in chains and taken into a dark dungeon. This one felt more sinister—like he was the one in serious danger.

“You haven’t had a nightmare in a long time,” Abuela said tenderly.

Rafa nodded. His abuelo handed him a glass of water. He chugged it. His mouth felt dry, as if he’d swallowed a bunch of feathers.

“Was it about Nikki?” Brianna asked.

“Not this time,” he answered.

Brianna leaned her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him.

“It’s okay, Brianna. You don’t have to hold me so tight.”

“I’m never letting go,” she said.

Rafa knew she meant it, and it worried him. If something was after him … was Brianna in danger too?

AT SOME POINT, RAFA MANAGED TO FALL ASLEEP, but as soon as the sun’s rays slipped through the window next to his bed, he woke and groaned from exhaustion. He listened to the birds outside and the movement in the house. Brianna’s voice boomed from the living room. As always, she’d probably been up for a couple of hours.

“Rafa! We’re leaving in a few minutes for haircuts,” Abuelo said through the door. “Come eat. Abuela warmed up chicken empanadas before she left.”

“Coming,” Rafa said with a long stretch. His abuela’s empanadas were his favorite and just what he needed after a rough night. As he sat up, he noticed a handwritten note from her on the dresser.

I wanted to stay home with you, but I have

support group. Talk more when I return?

Be sure to write the nightmare down. Give it a

hopeful ending. I love you.

Every Sunday, his abuela left for church and then attended a support group for parents with incarcerated children. Sometimes, she’d share what she learned at her meetings, like encouraging him to express his fears and worries and even writing down his nightmares. “It’s not good to keep it inside,” she said. He did as she suggested, turning his nightmares into scary stories with hopeful endings. Writing the endings the way he wanted gave Rafa a sense of control, but as he stared at Abuela’s note, he wasn’t sure it would work this time. The nightmare felt too real. Who was that boy in the woods? Why was he showing up all of a sudden? Was he trying to warn Rafa or hurt him?

Rafa found Brianna fussing with her wrist splint at the kitchen table. Between them, they scarfed down four crispy empanadas before leaving with Abuelo. Neither of them mentioned the nightmare, but every time Rafa yawned, Brianna shot him a worried look. At the barbershop, he nearly fell asleep in the chair.

After his haircut, he took Brianna to City Thrift next door while Abuelo had his turn. He never wanted Brianna to have to wear a black trash bag in the rain again.

Inside the store, Rafa flipped through raincoats in every color and style, he hoped to find a decent one that cost less than the twenty dollars he had in his pocket. Next to him, Brianna rustled through the jackets as well as she could with her wrist wrapped tight in a splint that Rafa teased was “too pink to be legal.”

He plucked out a newish-looking yellow hooded rain jacket. When they lived at a shelter, a staffer gave Rafa tips on thrift store shopping. The main takeaway was to always check the armpits. He checked the armpits for stains, holes, and gave them a good sniff.

Brianna laughed. “My brother sniffs armpits!”

“Only for you,” he declared, holding it up to her, checking its fit. “How about this one?”

Brianna nodded excitedly. “It has lots of pockets. I love it.”

“Done,” he said, checking the price tag. He walked to the cashier line.

“Do you think we’ll have enough change to buy a cup of custard from Foo’s?” Brianna asked. “We could share.”

“Maybe a small cup.”

Brianna nudged him. “Look at what she’s got.”

Rafa followed her gaze to a woman with two little boys in front of them. The woman held up a blue soccer jersey. Rafa’s heart dropped. It was identical to the jersey Nikki had given him for Christmas one year. He wasn’t even a soccer fan at that point, but the jersey was soft and looked cool.

“Do you think it’s the same one?” Brie asked.

“No, that was a long time ago.”

“You sold it for me.”

“Yep, I remember.”

The memory of that day felt as fresh now as if Rafa had just worn the jersey the day before. He, Brianna, and Nikki had spent the night in the car. The next morning, Nikki left and said she’d return with food. The whole afternoon passed with no sign of her. Rafa worried that she’d left them for good. She had threatened it before, so he thought it was possible. Eventually, they both needed a bathroom and were hungry. Rafa walked Brianna across a busy intersection to McDonald’s. As she used the bathroom, Rafa scanned the tables to see if anyone left fries when he noticed a group of college kids finishing up. One of them commented on Rafa’s jersey. Lightning fast, Rafa concocted a story that he’d lost the money his mother gave him to buy dinner for his sister. He was willing to sell his jersey to avoid getting in trouble. Rafa thought they’d never go for it. At best, he hoped they’d offer him their leftovers. Instead, one of them handed Rafa ten dollars in exchange for the jersey. When Brianna came out of the bathroom, Rafa was grinning away in his white undershirt and holding a tray of chicken nuggets, french fries, and a chocolate shake.

At least now he didn’t have to hand over the shirt on his back to eat. They paid for the raincoat and rushed across the street to Foo’s Custard.

Brianna looked back toward the barbershop. “Should we tell Abuelo we’re going?”

“We’ll be right back.” Rafa shrugged. He sometimes forgot that he had adults who worried about him now. Every time he left the house without asking permission, there was a lecture from his abuelos. It was one of the many things he had learned living with them, along with texting if he was running late, and to always say “please.”

Just as they reached the custard shop, Brianna spotted that her favorite store, Last Chapter Bookstore, was open. She looked at Rafa with pleading eyes.

“Fine, but let’s make it fast,” he said as they rushed into the bookstore.

Brianna dashed straight for the manga section, while he browsed a display of comic books.

“Dr. Martin, so good to see you,” the cashier’s voice rang out.

Rafa peered over to see Ms. Martin dressed sharply in a linen suit and sunglasses. The two women spoke, and then Ms. Martin started signing books. He remembered what Jayden said about her being a child psychiatrist who wrote books. After a few minutes, she was done and heading toward an aisle. Rafa assumed she’d go for romance books like his abuela always did, but Ms. Martin stopped at a section called “Paranormal.” She pulled a thick book from the shelf and swapped her sunglasses for reading glasses. She read the back cover before opening it to read some more. After a few minutes, she tossed the book back on the shelf like it had burned her fingers.

“What am I doing?” she muttered, looking distressed. “It’s hopeless.” She pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes.

Rafa felt suddenly bad for spying on her. He turned away and hoped she didn’t spot him. Next thing he knew, she’d strolled out the door.

He wondered what could be so hopeless for someone like Ms. Martin. She was rich. She lived in a big house. She had a private driver for her Bentley. He stepped into the aisle and picked up the book she’d left behind. It had a creepy title: Noisy Ghosts: The History of Hauntings. Rafa recalled what his abuela said about finding Ms. Martin using a Ouija board to communicate with her dead brother. Is that why she picked up a book about noisy ghosts? Rafa turned the pages, pausing on ghostly images captured by parapsychologists. From what Rafa could tell, parapsychologists were experts who studied paranormal activities like ghosts.

He stopped on a blurry picture of a woman on a bridge. The caption title was “The Bridge Bride.” People claimed that she’d showed up on the bridge dressed in her wedding gown and asked drivers for a ride to the church. Once the car crossed over the bridge, she’d disappear. Eternally constrained to the bridge where she died, the woman shows up on the anniversary of her wedding night every year.

Rafa felt the hair on his arms prick up. He thought about the boy in the woods. Was he also eternally constrained to the woods? Did he die there? Rafa checked the book price. It was more than he had. He’d have to find answers somewhere else.

Just then, two girls walked into the store. Brianna rushed up to them.

“Hi, Margo and Natasha!” she beamed. “How’s your summer going?”

The two girls glanced at each other and then rushed out of the store in a fit of giggles. Rafa watched as Brianna’s shoulders slumped.

He stepped up next to her, sliding his arm around her shoulder. “Custard time!”

With the money he had left over, Rafa was able to afford a small cup of fudge and vanilla swirl. They sat on a bench outside the barbershop and shared it as they waited for their abuelo.

“Who were those girls?” Rafa asked.

“Girls from school.”

“They didn’t seem very friendly.”

“The only time they speak to me is when they want answers for the math homework,” Brianna said sadly, passing the ice cream to Rafa. “They’ll be at the camp.”

“Well, if they give you trouble, you stand up for yourself, okay? And if you can’t, let me know,” Rafa said, returning the cup to her so that she could enjoy the last delicious spoonful. “Did you see Ms. Martin inside the bookstore?”

“She was there? Did she say anything to you?”

“No. She was looking at some books and started to cry.”

“What? Bookstores are happy places.”

“Not for her, I guess.”

Brianna quickly finished the last of the custard. “I’m sorry. I finished it.”

“Don’t be sorry. I had enough,” Rafa said, eyeing the empty cup. He wished for another one.

Brianna rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. “One day, I’ll be so rich that I’ll buy you a large custard cup whenever you want,” she said softly. Brianna was always saying things like that: “When I grow up, I’ll be so rich we’ll eat ice cream with every meal,” or “When I grow up, I’ll be so rich I’ll buy us a home in Parkside.”

He wondered if it was possible for kids like them to be rich someday.

Rafa nudged her playfully. “In that case, I’ll only accept the extra-large custard cup with M&M’S and Oreo crumbles.”

“Greedy, much?” she sassed. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and shoved it in her pocket. She turned to him, looking bothered. “Why don’t you read Nikki’s letters? She’s better now and wants to be our mom again.”

Rafa sucked in a long breath. Everything his abuela said about Brianna wanting Nikki home was true. He could hear the longing in Brie’s voice. Had it always been there? Why was he just now noticing it?

“Nikki always says she’s better and promises to change, but it’s all lies.”

“Don’t be mad. I like reading her letters,” she said. “They calm me. I like knowing she’s okay. I think you should give her a chance.”

Rafa scoffed. “I’ve given Nikki a hundred chances. But what do we get? No one has ever asked me if I want Nikki to live with us. Has anyone asked you?”

Brianna shook her head. “No.”

“And what would you say if they did?”

“I’d say I want to be with my brother no matter what.” She held his hand and sniffled.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. He didn’t want her to cry. And he hated that he had raised his voice. Nikki wasn’t even home yet, and she was already causing trouble.

“Should I stop reading her letters?”

“Read them if you want.”

Brie frowned at her wrist splint and messed with the Velcro.

“Is it too tight? Does it hurt?”

Brianna shook her head. “No, the custard helped.”

“Ice cream helps everything.”

Just then, Abuelo stepped in front of them. “Vamos, muchachos,” he announced with a loud clap. “Should we get some Foo’s Custard this afternoon?”

Rafa passed Brianna a sly smile as she hid the empty cup under her new rain jacket. They both nodded excitedly.

“Yes, please.”

RAFA HAD JUST FINISHED HIS LAST SPOONFUL OF chocolate M&M explosion custard when Grandpa slowed the car and turned into Ms. Martin’s long driveway. From the front seat, Rafa glanced back at Brianna, who looked as panicked as he felt.

“Why are we going here?” Rafa asked, startled that he’d have to see Ms. Martin again. Seeing her crying at the bookstore was enough for one day.

“She asked to see you both.”

“Do we have to?” Brianna asked.

“I’m really tired, Abuelo,” Rafa whined.

“I know you had a rough night, Rafa, but this is important to her. You can nap the rest of the afternoon,” Abuelo said. When they parked in front of the large stone house, Ms. Martin came out to the porch, smiled, and waved at them, wearing an apron over the same linen suit she wore at the bookstore.

“Welcome!” she shouted.

Brie nudged Rafa. “Why does she want to talk to us?” she whispered.

“Not sure, but I don’t like it.”

As they followed her inside the house, Rafa’s mouth dropped open, and Brianna let out an excited gasp. Sunlight filtered into the room through floor-to-ceiling windows. In one corner were a cluster of large colorful pots with tall house plants. Above the fireplace hung an expensive-looking painting with its own little lights propped in front of it. Thousands of books were neatly shelved on built-in bookshelves. She ushered them through the living room and into the dining room. On a polished wood table, large enough to seat twelve, more books were piled up. The room was filled with the warm aroma of freshly baked cake and strawberries.

“Thank you for bringing them over, Roberto.” Ms. Martin glanced at Rafa’s abuelo and then her eyes narrowed on Rafa like a car’s headlights. “I stopped by to apologize yesterday for the spectacle I put on Friday, but you were still sleeping, Rafael. So, I asked your abuelo to come by when it was convenient.”

Rafa shifted uncomfortably.

“I should have never grabbed your shoulders. No adult has that right,” Ms. Martin explained, looking distressed. “There’s no excuse, and I apologize to you both for my behavior.”

Rafa stared down at the floor, confused. She’d already apologized after she’d grabbed him. Why again? He felt everyone’s eyes on him, waiting.

“Rafa,” Abuelo said firmly. “Maybe you didn’t hear clearly, but Ms. Martin apologized to you. To you both. What do you say?”

“It’s okay,” Brianna blurted out first. “I accept your apology, Ms. Martin.”

“I guess,” Rafa finally said, irritated.

Ms. Martin crossed the room until she stood directly in front of him. Rafa inhaled sharply. He wished he could have stayed in the car. She fixed her brown eyes on him.

“Rafael,” she started. “I bet you don’t even want to be here. I don’t blame you. I want you to know that accepting my apology is on your terms and your schedule. Not mine. Not your grandparents’ either. Understood?”

“Okay,” Rafa said, surprising himself. He liked that Ms. Martin said that it was his choice to forgive. With Nikki, everyone expected him to forgive and forget. It didn’t feel that simple to him. Just then, a buzz sounded from the kitchen.

“Oh, that’s the shortcake! It’s finally cooled. As part of my apology, I’ve made us shortcake with strawberries and real whipped cream.”

“Two desserts in one day!” Brianna said with an excited squeal.

Ms. Martin raised her eyebrows. “Two? I guess it’s your lucky day.” She glanced at Rafa. “Do you like strawberries?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. His eyes hovered over the books piled up on the table and wondered if there were any scary books that he could borrow. Ms. Martin lifted a large stuffed photo album from the top of one pile.

She slipped on her glasses and opened it. “Feast your eyes on this photograph,” she said, pulling it from a sleeve.

She passed it to Brianna. Rafa leaned in to get a good look. It was a black-and-white image of the front of her house.

“Your house, but before the jaguars?” Brianna guessed.

“Good eye! My grandmother had the jaguars sculpted after World War Two. She believed they protected our home.”

“At my school, we’re the mighty Jaguars,” Brianna said. “There’s a statue like yours inside the entrance.”

“Oh, you attend Parkside Elementary,” she said.

Brianna nodded.

“Well, a little history for you. My grandmother helped found your school before it was renamed Parkside. And since jaguars were her favorite animal, she made it the school’s mascot and donated the statue. When you have money, you can do things like that.” She wrinkled her nose. “Silly, isn’t it?”

“Friday night, Rafa told me a scary story about a jaguar,” Brianna said.

Ms. Martin turned her eyes to Rafa. The gaze was so strong, Rafa stepped back from the table.

“Rafa has the best imagination,” Abuelo said. “Tell her your story, mijo.”

“I don’t remember it,” Rafa said shyly.

“I remember it,” Brianna piped up. “It was supposed to be a happy story, but it ended with a jaguar showing up and scaring a little girl almost to death”—Brianna giggled—“because he wanted her to sleep in her own bed.”

Ms. Martin let out an awkward laugh. “Was that the only scary story you told Friday night?”

Rafa stared at her blankly, feeling more irritated by the second. “Why do you care so much about the stories I told Friday night?”

Ms. Martin looked startled by his directness, but before she could explain, Grandpa grunted.

“Rafa, don’t be rude,” he said.

“Sorry,” Rafa muttered. He hadn’t meant to speak so harshly, but he still wanted an answer from her. Why was Friday night so important? Did it have something to do with what she said about the blood moon?

Ms. Martin attempted a friendly smile and pushed away from the table. “You know what? It’s a warm day. Let’s eat outside on the patio.”

They followed her outside to the patio table. It was a perfect afternoon. As they ate delicious shortcake, Ms. Martin smiled warmly and offered extra strawberries and whipped cream. Brianna prattled on about her sprained wrist and Rafa’s wrecked bike. Then, she asked Ms. Martin a gazillion questions about her cats. Rafa was glad to talk about something else other than his scary stories. He felt it in his gut that behind her smile was a secret.

“There’s Shadow, Willow, Sombra, Sir Whiskers … ,” Ms. Martin rattled off. “I could go on all day. There are so many. Sometimes, one of the cats will show up with another one, and then that cat sticks around. That’s what happened with Balam. One day, the other cats brought him home.”

“He’s the one that’s missing?” Brianna asked. “He hasn’t returned yet?”

“No,” she said sadly. “He’ll come home when he’s done with his adventure. At least I hope so.”

Rafa followed her gaze across the yard toward where her property was separated from the thick woods by a long line of slender cypress trees.

“Maybe he’ll return with a dead mouse,” Brianna teased. “As a gift for you.”

Ms. Martin let out a light laugh. “Perhaps. In the past, the cats have presented me with an assortment of gifts like rats, birds, little lizards … the worst, so far, has been a copperhead snake. It was dead and dangling from Balam’s fierce little mouth.”

Rafa chuckled. “Is Balam your favorite?”

She nodded and smiled. “Balam is a protector,” she continued. “The other cats kill for fun and sport. If Balam kills, it’s always to protect.”

“Cool,” Rafa said. “What does Balam mean?”

“It’s from the Mayan language, and it literally means ‘jaguar.’ Do you know who the Maya are?”

Rafa leaned forward. “Sort of. Who are they?”

“The Maya are the native people of Mesoamerica, including parts of Mexico, where your abuelos come from. My ancestors too. The Maya highly revered the jaguar. For them, the jaguar was an important part of the ecosystem and a fierce protector. Now the jaguar is endangered. Here in the United States, there are only a few left roaming. One of them is called El Jefe. The boss.”

Brianna giggled. “Cool.”

Ms. Martin went on. “A bunch of schoolkids named him. He’s been seen in Arizona; however, his sightings have dwindled over the years, which isn’t good news.”

Rafa leaned forward, but just when he thought Ms. Martin was getting interesting, Abuelo stood up from the table. “Bueno, we should get going,” Abuelo said. “Almost time to pick up Esperanza from her group.”

Abuelo pulled out the chair for Brianna. Rafa followed his abuelo’s example and pulled the chair out for Ms. Martin.

As she stepped from her seat, she smiled at him warmly. “Your abuela said you were a true caballero. Now I see it’s true.”

Rafa smiled back and started to follow his abuelo and Brianna into the house when Ms. Martin tapped his shoulder. When he turned to face her, she slipped him a thin leather journal.

“Read the note,” she said and glided past him into the house. He looked down at the journal in his hands. On the cover, was a handwritten note.

Rafael,

Take this journal home. Read it ASAP. Let me know if anything sounds familiar. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.

He opened it and saw pages filled with blue scribbled notes. He stopped on a page titled, “The Curse of the Blood Moon.” His heart raced as he scanned the first line: “Long ago, on a night just like this, a blood moon hovered over Grainsville Park …”

RAFA KEPT THE JOURNAL HIDDEN THE WHOLE TIME in the car. He was trying his best to process everything. How was it possible that the story he told Friday night was in this leather journal?

When they arrived home, he rushed for his bedroom to read it, but Grandpa asked for help with dinner. Rafa shoved the journal under his mattress and hurried to the kitchen to prepare salad. His abuelo fried chicken while his grandma checked Brianna’s wrist. As Rafa chopped lettuce, his mind filled with questions. Why was Ms. Martin being so secretive? All afternoon, she pressed him about the scary stories he told on Friday night—then boom! The story he told was in her journal. Was it her journal? He wasn’t even certain. A cell phone squawked. From the kitchen, Rafa heard his abuela answer it.

“I think you’ve chopped that lettuce enough,” Abuelo said, suddenly standing over Rafa’s shoulder.

Rafa looked down at the lettuce completely shredded like confetti.

“Don’t zone out when you’re chopping, mijo,” Abuelo said, handing him carrots to grate. “Can I trust you with these?”

“Yes, sorry,” Rafa said, grabbing the carrots. After a few minutes, his abuela stood at the kitchen doorway and smiled weakly at him.

“Are you okay, Abuela?”

“Yes, mijo. I’m just going to wash up and maybe after dinner we can have a family talk.”

“Is something wrong, Esperanza?” Abuelo asked.

“Just some unexpected news.”

Once they were all seated for dinner, Grandma showed up to the table with puffy red eyes as if she’d finished a good cry. Rafa wondered if something happened at work. Was she fired? What would they do now? Rafa poured her some iced tea while Abuelo served their plates, piled with fried chicken, rice, and salad. Abuela took a sip of iced tea and cleared her throat.

“Brianna, after dinner, let’s write a thank-you note to Dr. Leal. I have some nice notecards in the buffet drawer that we can use.”

Brianna nodded happily.

“Is that who called?” Rafa asked, starting on a second drumstick.

“No,” Abuela said, staring down at her plate. “It was someone else.”

Rafa figured it must be something to do with Nikki. Maybe Nikki wouldn’t be coming home this summer after all. She probably messed up and now they’re keeping her. For a second, he was glad, but across the table, Abuela looked defeated. No one fought as hard for Nikki as she had. He couldn’t help but feel ashamed for wishing something that would break his abuela’s heart.

Once the plates were cleared, she remained at the table, sipping tea from her favorite cup. Rafa was eager to get back to the journal, but it was clear Abuela was ready to talk.

“The phone call was about you, Rafa. It was Nate Ashford, Cash’s uncle. He’s uninvited you from the overnight camp trip because of your grades.”

“That’s not fair!” Brianna objected.

Rafa felt his entire body clench up. Even though that night in the tree house he had suspected that Cash was up to something, the bad news still stung. It stung double because his abuela and Brianna were upset. And deep down, he really wanted to go to camp and be a normal kid. He sat quietly, trying to understand what would happen now. Missing camp meant he’d be home when Nikki came home. It also meant that it’d be the first time Brianna spent the night on her own. Could she handle it? She was tough, but …

“I’m not going without Rafa.” Brianna scowled.

Abuela patted her hand. “Well, that’s your choice, mija—”

“No,” Rafa said with a head shake. “You shouldn’t miss out on camp. You have to go and have fun without me. I won’t always be here, you know?”

“What does that mean?” Brianna asked.

“It just means you have to do things without me sometimes. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry, mijo,” Abuela said, her voice cracking. “I wish they’d give you a break.”

Rafa stood up and hugged her. “It’s okay. There’ll be other camp trips, Abuela.”

Brianna began to sob. “When I’m rich, I’ll start my own camp and invite all the kids regardless of grades!” She stomped to the bedroom.

Abuela went after her.

Grandpa planted a hand on Rafa’s shoulder and kissed the top of his head. “You’re a good brother.”

Rafa took a deep breath. His phone pinged again. He fished it out of his pocket. Jayden had sent him a bunch of angry emojis along with a text for him to come to the tree house.

When Rafa went to the bedroom, Abuela was comforting Brianna, who was facedown, crying into her pillow. He pulled the journal from under his mattress. His abuela passed him a gentle smile. For a second, he thought about showing her the journal and the note. Then he thought better of it. Whatever this journal was, he didn’t want to add to her worries. He gently closed the door behind him.

“Can I go to Jayden’s house?” he asked his abuelo, who was cleaning up in the kitchen.

“Text when you get there,” Abuelo said. “When you’re ready to leave, I’ll meet you at the park to walk back together, eh?”

“Walk?” Rafa asked, then he remembered his wrecked bike. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Everything around him seemed to be falling apart. He tightened his shoelaces and jogged to Jayden’s house.

Once he arrived, Rafa was surprised to find Jayden and his three sisters gathered. It was the first time he’d ever seen Jayden’s sisters in the tree house. Rafa only had to look at their faces to know they had been talking about him.

“What’s going on?” Rafa asked, taking a seat on the beanbag.

Jayden’s sisters smiled sympathetically and asked about Brianna’s wrist.

“Better. She’s using the splint,” he answered, leaving out the fact she was crying her eyes out about the camp trip.

“The Leals will not stand for them not letting you go to camp,” Jayden said.

“We’re considering dropping out in a sign of solidarity,” Nayeli added.

Nora and Nilda agreed, nodding enthusiastically. Rafa couldn’t believe it. Deep down, it felt good to have their loyalty and friendship, but he didn’t want to be the kid whose poor grades ruined the overnight trip for everyone else.

“I can’t let you guys do that,” he said.

“Why not?” Jayden asked.

Rafa lowered his eyes and thought about Brianna crying at home. He swallowed the knot forming in his throat. “Because of Brianna. She’s more excited about the overnight than me. She wants to make friends.”

A knowing silence filled the tree house.

“I need you to make sure she’s safe and has fun. For some reason, other kids give her a hard time.”

“Why are kids so mean?” Nayeli asked. “She’s so sweet and smart.”

“We wish that we could replace Jayden with her,” Nora said.

Jayden frowned like he was offended, but Rafa knew he was just playing along.

“We talk about it all the time,” Nilda agreed. “How nice it would be to have a sister like Brianna instead of Saint Jayden, who wants us to say the rosary with him every night.”

“Ay ay ay,” Jayden said with playful irritation.

Rafa couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, it’s settled. The best way to support Rafa is to go on the trip and take care of Brianna.” Jayden announced it like they were at a board meeting or something official. “I’d do the same for my sisters, you know?”

His sisters shook their heads in disagreement, which made Rafa laugh again.

“What will you do while we’re at camp?” Jayden asked.

“Well, Nikki is coming home, so I’ll probably pack a small bag and run away,” Rafa said with a shrug.

Under their sympathetic gaze, he felt embarrassed by how casually he’d said it. Deep down, he knew he’d never leave Brianna behind. Where would he even go? He had no one else in the world except his abuelos and Brianna. He shrugged again. “I’ll probably stay in my room and write more scary stories.”

“Speaking of scary stories,” Jayden said, pulling his camera from his pocket. “I checked the drone recording from yesterday in the woods to see the pillow snatcher and …” Jayden looked over at his sister, still chatting. “Uh, chicas, you’re excused. Thank you very much for very little.”

“Whatever,” Nayeli said, standing up. They left in a commotion of goofy insults hurled at him. As soon as they were out of sight, Jayden turned his attention back to the phone. “Okay, so I looked, and there’s no sign of the kid in the woods, bro.”

Rafa shook his head. “That can’t be right. I know what I saw.”

“Watch.” Jayden started the video, fast forwarding to after they retrieved the first cushion. The drone zipped over trees and zoomed in on the pillow leaned up against a fence. Knowing he was about to see the ghostly kid again sent shivers up Rafa’s spine.

“This part is weird.”

The pillow abruptly flipped on its side, and then slid a few inches across the grass as if someone had grabbed it. Nothing but static followed.

“That’s when the drone went down, I guess.” Jayden said. “Creepy, but there wasn’t any kid.”

Rafa felt goose bumps all over. “That pillow is not flipping and moving across the ground by itself, Jayden. That kid I saw is doing it.”

“Or it’s a gust of wind. Still freaky either way, right?”

“No, it’s him,” Rafa said, refusing to believe it was the wind.

In the book he’d seen at the bookstore, ghosts appeared like hazy light shapes, disfigured reflections, and gray blurs. Rafa snatched the phone from Jayden. He rewound the video, froze the screen, and zoomed in on a pale blurry light. Up close, it vaguely took on the form of a kid crouching.

“That’s him! See that?”

“I admit it looks weird when you zoom in, but with the sun, and the drone … it’s probably just a shadow. I don’t see anything else.”

Rafa sat back, annoyed that Jayden was so quick to dispel what he saw. He handed the phone to him. “I didn’t mean to snatch it from you.”

Jayden smiled and shrugged. “I think all these ghost stories are getting to you.”

“Yeah, that must be it,” Rafa said quietly, feeling the journal tucked away in his hoodie’s interior pocket. He had planned to show Jayden, but not now. If Jayden didn’t believe him about the ghost kid, he certainly wasn’t going to believe what was written in the journal. “Gotta go,” he said, getting up to leave.

“Are you okay?” Jayden asked. “Don’t worry about the overnight or bigmouth Cash. I’ll let him know how crummy all this is.”

“Cash is the least of my problems,” Rafa answered, leaving Jayden in the tree house.

He texted his abuelo and headed toward the park, where he was waiting for him. As they walked home together, Rafa replayed the video over in his head. He couldn’t stop feeling like his world was being turned inside out.

“Everything okay, mijo? You’re very quiet,” Abuelo asked. “Is the whole camp thing under your skin?”

Rafa shook his head. For a second, he thought about telling his abuelo about the boy he saw in the woods and how Jayden didn’t believe him, but maybe his abuelo wouldn’t believe him either.

Was it all connected? Ms. Martin looking up ghost books at the bookstore while he saw one with his own eyes. Plus, she had warned him about ghost stories. Now his blood moon story, as far as he could tell, was in the journal she handed him.

Normally, he’d tell his abuelos everything. It was the deal they made when Rafa and Brianna moved in. He could hear his abuela’s voice in his head: “Secrets are dangerous.” But this felt too dangerous to speak aloud. Rafa kicked a rock down the street, knowing he was alone and couldn’t tell anyone.

When they reached the street where Ms. Martin lived, she was calling for Balam from her porch. Abuelo walked up to the edge of her driveway.

“You need some help, Xanath?” Grandpa asked.

Rafa stayed on the other side of the street, hoping Ms. Martin didn’t see him. He wasn’t ready to face her again without reading the journal she’d given him.

“Hi, Roberto! Just looking for that darn cat.” She laughed nervously. “Have a good night.”

When Abuelo returned to Rafa’s side, his face was crumpled with concern. “That cat will be the death of her.”

“What do you mean?” Rafa asked, looking back toward her house.

“I mean that missing cat is stressing her out too much.”

“How long have you known Ms. Martin?” Rafa asked.

“Well, we’re cousins actually.”

“What?” Rafa stopped and stared at his abuelo. “I’m related to her?”

“Distant cousins,” Abuelo answered, giving Rafa a pat on the shoulder that meant to keep walking. “Her grandma and my grandpa were siblings. Your abuela knew her brother since they went to the same school, but as she told you, he died young. And when he did, the family moved away.”

“Abuela said that Ms. Martin believed that her brother was murdered in the woods.”

“He wasn’t murdered,” Abuelo said. “He drowned in Grainsville Park. That was a long time ago though. That pond dried up years ago.”

Rafa made a mental note to find out more. Was it a coincidence that the kid he had seen in the woods and again in his nightmare appeared soaking wet? Was it a coincidence that his scary story included a girl named Tessa who stood by a pond? A pond that apparently no longer existed in Grainsville Park.

When they arrived home, Brianna was at the kitchen table. “Rafa!” she exclaimed as he hurried past. “You want to see the sign we’re making for Nikki?”

Before he could answer, she held up a poster board that read, WELCOME HOME! WE’RE PROUD OF YOU!

“Nice work,” he said. He was relieved to see Brianna up and no longer crying. He closed the bedroom door behind him, sat on his bed, and opened the journal. He flipped through it looking for a name. Whose journal was this? Were these Ms. Martin’s scribbles and sketches? Finally, he found his answer. On the inside of the back cover was a book plate:

This journal belongs to:

Xavier Martin, 1975

Rafa was suddenly sad. In his hands, he held Ms. Martin’s little brother’s journal. He turned the pages with dread until he found the story he’d seen earlier. He began to read.

“The Curse of the Blood Moon”

Long ago, on a night just like this, a blood moon hovered over Grainsville Park. Two boys found a pond they’d never seen before. Suddenly, a girl appeared by the pond. She was sobbing …

LYING IN BED, RAFA STARED UP AT THE CEILING. Beneath his mattress, he swore the journal throbbed like a beating heart keeping him awake. Across the room, Brianna was sound asleep. He wished he could sleep like her. For Rafa, it always took a lot of staring at the ceiling or writing a story before he dozed off. Brianna always woke up full of energy, while Rafa always begged for ten more minutes to sleep. The night he found out that Nikki was going to prison, he couldn’t sleep at all. It was so bad that he fell asleep at his school desk the next day. His teacher nudged him awake and sent him to the vice principal’s office with a note. Rafa had no idea what the note said, but the vice principal read it and offered Rafa a blanket and his office couch before he headed off to a meeting. Rafa wasn’t used to adults being so nice.

When he woke up, three hours later, his grandparents were there. A counselor from the school district was there too. She suggested different sleep aids, like breathing exercises, meditation, soothing music—no computers, no phones, or sugar two hours before bedtime. He tried it all, and it helped until the day he learned Nikki was coming home. Now the sleeplessness was back. The nightmares too.

His eyelids were finally getting heavy when a shadow passed outside his window. Rafa peeked from behind the curtains and saw his abuelo walking to the front of the house. Slung on his back was a rifle. Panic raced through Rafa. He’d never seen his abuelo with a gun before. Why was he even up this late? He opened the window.

“Abuelo!” he whisper-shouted.

His abuelo gave him a slight wave. Rafa grabbed his sneakers and rushed out of the room as stealthily as he could so as not to wake Brianna.

His abuelo was on the front porch looking out toward the street in front of them.

“What’s going on?” Rafa asked, keeping his voice low.

“A large cat was here,” Abuelo said, his voice steady and sure.

“What kind of large cat?” Rafa asked, scanning the yard. Maybe it was still there, lurking behind some bushes or trees.

“In this area, most likely it’s a mountain lion or a bobcat, but with these markings, I’d bet on a full-grown mountain lion.”

“Markings?”

“Look behind you,” Abuelo said, shining the flashlight at the door behind Rafa.

Rafa turned slowly, hoping that markings didn’t mean splattered blood or guts. The flashlight lit up long claw marks streaked down their front door. Rafa stepped closer to trace the scratch marks with his fingertips. Each indention was fingernail deep and strangely warm, as if the cat had just been there.

“They usually scrape trees to mark territory and send a message to other predators. I’ve never heard of one coming this close and scraping a door.”

“What kind of message?” Rafa asked.

“I’m here.”

“I’m here,” Rafa repeated as a sharp summer wind rustled through the trees. He thought back to the story he told Brianna about the cat that turned into a jaguar. It also scratched up a door. There had to be some other explanation. “Couldn’t it be some kids playing with a jackknife?”

Abuelo shook his head. “These are no knife marks. It stripped the wood and left a three-inch indention. That is very different from a knife slashing.”

Rafa gestured to the rifle slung around his abuelo’s back. “Were you going to shoot it?”

“Only to scare it away, mijo. It’s loaded with blanks.” His abuelo switched off the flashlight. “Let’s go back inside. Tomorrow, I’ll call it in to the local wildlife department and replace the door.”

“Abuelo,” Rafa said, wavering at the door. “You don’t think it could be a jaguar, do you?”

His abuelo studied him. “Like the story you told Brianna?”

Rafa felt embarrassed under his gaze. He had to admit, it sounded bonkers. Still, he pressed his lips together and nodded.

“No, mijo,” he answered, opening the door. “You remember what Ms. Martin said about jaguars? They’re endangered. The few left are most likely in Arizona. Not Missouri. Now, scoot to bed. Don’t worry about the mountain lion.”

Rafa wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the scratch marks. He grabbed his phone and researched mountain lion markings. A flood of images appeared. Each one looking slightly smaller than the ones left on the door. Then he looked up jaguar marks. Rafa shuddered. Jaguar scrapes were long and wide. They were a better match of what was on their door.

Brianna stirred. “Go to sleep,” she murmured, pulling a quilt over her head.

“I’m trying,” he whispered. “Sorry.” He got up, grabbed his notebook of scary stories and his phone, and pulled the journal from under the bed. He went to the basement.

In the basement, he felt like a stranger intruding on someone else’s space, even though it had been his room for the past two years. For a second, he thought about sitting on the bed, but it didn’t seem right. Soon, it would be Nikki’s bed. Soon, all of it would be Nikki’s room. Nikki would be there. What would it be like bumping into her in the kitchen? Sitting at the dinner table with her? Would she try to kiss him good night? He thought back to the scary stories he wrote about kids haunted by noisy ghosts. He figured it’d be like that. Nikki would pass into a room, and he’d do his best to ignore her. She’d speak to him, and he’d pretend not to hear her. He didn’t want her there, but like with all the ghosts he wrote about, they did what they wanted and cared little about the humans they scared.

He opened the journal and flipped to “The Curse of the Blood Moon” story. In the same way he had compared jaguar and mountain lion claw marks, he now compared his and Xavier’s stories. Both started with a blood moon and ended with a ghostly Caretaker whispering, “One, two, I’m coming for you.” Rafa grabbed his notebook and quickly jotted down all the similarities between the stories and what he’d seen so far.

Blood moon over Grainsville Park

Phone message: “One, two, he’s coming for you.”

The bench dedicated to Tessa (girl at the pond?)

Boy in the woods (ghost?)

Cryptic message: “Three, four, you’ll breathe no more.”

Nightmare of the same kid in the woods telling me to run.

Claw marks on the door by a large cat just like the jaguar story.

Rafa’s heart pounded. He felt the room sucking away his air. There was no denying that parts of his stories were coming true. How? He took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. He held the leather journal and wished he could rip it up. Scary stories aren’t supposed to come true. Scary stories are harmless fun. Isn’t that what Abuela said? But if his stories were coming true, did it mean everyone was in danger because of him? Rafa hurled the journal across the room, hitting and smashing the framed tapestry that his abuela bought for Nikki. As it crashed to the floor, he stared in shock. What had he done?

Any minute, he expected his grandpa to come running down to check on the ruckus. How would Rafa explain it to him? After a few minutes passed, no one came downstairs. Rafa picked up the journal off the floor and leaned the bent frame against the wall. Broken glass was scattered everywhere. Why was everything crashing and crumbling around him? He couldn’t explain it. All he knew was that Ms. Martin had given him Xavier’s journal for a reason. He had to get answers from her.

THROUGH HALF-OPENED EYES, RAFA SAW ABUELA standing over him with a worried expression. “Why did you come downstairs, mijo?”

Rafa eased himself up off the basement floor, wiping sleep from his eyes. “I wanted to keep reading.” Then he remembered the frame. His eyes darted to the wall and then to the floor, where the broken frame should have been.

“I cleaned it up,” she said as a pained look crossed her face. “I knew you’d end up missing your bedroom. I’m sorry, mijo.”

“No, it’s not that, Abuela. It was an accident. It really was.”

“I believe you, mijo.” She gave him a faint smile. “Anyway, get up. Brianna made us waffles.” She turned to leave, and then glanced at Xavier’s journal. “Where’d that come from?”

“Ms. Martin gave it to me,” he answered. “It’s full of scary stories.” It wasn’t a total lie. It was scary enough.

“Maybe you should take a break from scary stories,” she said softly. “The entire neighborhood is on edge. You’ve already seen our door, right? Turns out a few doors were scratched up last night.”

“Not just ours?”

“Almost every house on our street,” she answered. She walked up the stairs to the kitchen.

Rafa followed her and hurried to wash up. He wanted to see Ms. Martin and ask her about the journal. Jayden pinged him a photo of his family’s door and a video link from the local wildlife department warning about a possible aggressive mountain lion in the area.

Brianna rushed up to him. “Did you see our door? It’s just like the jaguar story.”

Brianna’s words stung him. She was right, but he couldn’t let her know what he suspected. He couldn’t get her involved. He slung his book bag around his shoulder. “It’s nothing like my story,” he scoffed.

“Wait! Are you leaving?”

“I don’t have time to explain, Brianna. I have to talk to Ms. Martin. I’ll be back,” he said, rushing past her to the front door.

“Can I go with you?”

“Not this time.”

“But I made you delicious waffles!” she shouted after him as he jogged toward Ms. Martin’s house.

*  *  *

When he arrived, Ms. Martin’s door was scraped up too and propped open. He poked his head inside. “Ms. Martin?”

“Come in, Rafael! I’m in the dining room!” she called out.

As he walked through the house, cats were sprawled out near the windows, soaking in the sunlight. Ms. Martin sat at the large dinner table, looking small and disheveled. Up close, he saw dark shadows under her eyes. He wondered if she had trouble sleeping too. In front of her on the table were a yellow highlighter pen, reading glasses, and three notebooks. One of them was spread open as if he’d interrupted her reading it.

He took a deep breath and held up Xavier Martin’s journal. “How did your brother, Xavier, and I write the same story when I’ve never seen his journal before. What’s going on?”

Ms. Martin locked eyes with him. “You’re talking about the Caretaker story?”

Rafa nodded and stepped to the table. He opened his notebook and placed his story in front of her. “It’s the same story I told to Jayden on Friday night.”

Ms. Martin glanced down at it and then covered her face with her hands. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Rafa felt suddenly hot all over. “What do you mean? What were you afraid of?”

“Come sit.” She stood up and guided him to a chair at the table.

Rafa sat down reluctantly. She poured him tea and slid him a plate of freshly cut apple slices. He ate a slice and tried the tea. It was cinnamon. Delicious and not too sweet. “I’ll try to explain, but where do I even begin?”

“At the beginning,” Rafa said. “All stories have one.”

“You’re right.” She gave him a nod. “The whole reason I moved back here from Florida was because my brother, Xavier, showed up in my dream one night. I hadn’t dreamed about him in years. In the dream, he said the Caretaker was back. He said more children would die if I didn’t find the storyteller.” Ms. Martin paused. “I was frightened because the last time I heard that name was almost fifty years ago from a story my brother had written. Two days after he wrote it, his body was found in Grainsville Park.”

Rafa swallowed hard. “My abuelo said that your brother drowned. Is that true?” he asked softly, worried it was rude to ask, but he felt it was important to know what she believed.

“It was reported as a drowning, but I believe he was murdered.”

Rafa thought of the boy he saw in the woods. He always appeared sopping wet. “Why?”

“When I moved back here, I found Xavier’s journal at the bottom of a dusty box and reread his story. I discovered that since my family moved away, several children have died in Grainsville Park and always around the time of a blood moon.” She tapped an orange spiral notebook on the table in front of her. “Back in 1985, Aisha Silva’s body was found. This notebook belonged to her.” She slid it over to Rafa. “In it is a chilling poem mentioning a caretaker.”

The page was full of loopy writing, but Rafa could read it fine.

“The Pond Poem” by Aisha Silva

Little girl, little girl, look at the moon

The Caretaker watches and will be back here soon

Little girl, little girl, standing by the pond

The fog is coming and soon you’ll be gone

Little girl, little girl, how did you take her?

With screams and cries, says the Caretaker.

Little girl, little girl, why do you weep?

Because you’re next, and forever you’ll sleep.

“How?” Rafa said unable to muster anything else.

She placed a hardcover sketchbook in front of him. “There’s more. This sketchbook belonged to Noah James. Again, an identical tale about a murderous caretaker.” Rafa’s eyes rushed over the comic book retelling of the same story. “His body was found drowned in 1998. Then there’s twelve-year-old Isabel Stork, found in 2019.” Ms. Martin handed him a bloodred Moleskine journal. “Not only did she write a similar story, but she left a peculiar note too.” Ms. Martin pointed to the bottom of a page.

I’M GOING TO SEE THE GIRL BY

THE POND. TOGETHER WE’LL STOP THE

CARETAKER. IF YOU FIND MY JOURNAL,

THEN I’VE FAILED.

Rafa wondered if instead of a note it was a beginning to a new story? A story she never finished. Then again, if it was a simple note, who was it intended for? Why did she think the girl in the pond really existed and that she could find her? Still, something bothered Rafa more.

“How did you get all of these notebooks?”

“I tracked down the parents. Some of them still live in town. I asked if by chance their child loved to write scary stories. These three did. I asked to see any saved stories or journals—it’s amazing what parents save. They gladly gave them to me. Anyway, my dreaded hypothesis was confirmed. Each of them, just like Xavier and you, told stories or poems about the Caretaker during a blood moon.”

Rafa turned her words over in his mind. “Are you saying that everyone who writes about the Caretaker dies in Grainsville Park?”

“Yes,” she answered.

Rafa shook his head in disbelief. Could he trust anything she said? Hadn’t his abuela said she’d been acting strange lately? He gazed down at a cat curled up on the Ouija board stashed in the corner of the room. Rafa didn’t want to be there a second longer. He pushed from the table and shoved his notebook into his book bag.

“Where are you going?” she asked as he beelined it for the door. “Rafael Fuentes!” she called out with urgency dripping from her voice.

He stopped but didn’t turn to face her.

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. These notebooks prove there’s a connection. You’re the first living kid I’ve met who’s told a story about the Caretaker. You could be the key, but if you go now, more kids will be in danger, including you. The Caretaker is real.”

Rafa whirled around and stared at her, feeling the force of her words whip around him like a fierce wind. “Brianna and Jayden,” he muttered. “Everyone is heading to camp in a couple of days. Are they in danger?”

A look of alarm crossed over Ms. Martin’s face. “No child should go into the woods right now,” she said. “Our only hope is that the whole neighborhood thinks there’s an aggressive mountain lion on the loose … They’ll have to cancel the trip.”

Rafa nodded. He wasn’t sure he should tell her that it was a jaguar. He fished his notebook out of his bag and opened it to the list he’d made. “Last night, I made a whole list of strange coincidences that have happened since I told the Caretaker story and the story about the jaguar.”

Ms. Martin put on her reading glasses and leaned in. She read through Rafa’s list calmly and then finally she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“This boy you saw in the woods …” She stood up from the table and grabbed a picture from a shelf. She handed it to Rafa. In it, a teenaged Ms. Martin stood with her arm wrapped around a younger boy’s shoulder. “Did it look like him? Was it Xavier?”

In the picture, Xavier looked like any other boy at Rafa’s school. His dark hair spilled over his eyes, and he had a wide, natural smile. He wore a Godzilla T-shirt and jeans. In his arms, Xavier held a cat that looked a lot like the cat Ms. Martin called Balam. Rafa looked closer. It was an old picture, but there was no doubt that the boy he saw in the woods and in his nightmare resembled Xavier. And the possibility that it was Xavier somehow made Rafa less scared. He was a kid like him. Maybe this whole time Xavier was trying to warn him and not hurt him? Rafa felt Ms. Martin’s eyes on him, waiting for an answer.

“I’m not sure, but I think so.”

Ms. Martin kissed the photo and put it down. She pointed at the list. “You noted a bench dedicated to someone named Tessa. I’ve never seen any records about a girl named Tessa.”

“I think that’s because you looked at records of kids who died in the park after you moved away. Her bench dedication said 1974. Xavier died when?”

Ms. Martin looked up like a light went on in her head. “In 1975. How did I miss that?”

“I think she’s important,” Rafa said. “She shows up in every story and poem. And even in Isabel’s note. It says, ‘I’m going to see the girl by the pond.’ That’s Tessa.”

“What made you create this list? It was very smart.”

Rafa searched for the best way to explain it. “I like writing stuff down,” he answered. “It calms me and helps me understand my thoughts better when I can see it written. My abuela says that’s why I write scary stories.”

“Hmmmm,” Ms. Martin said, studying him. “That’s called a coping mechanism.”

Rafa shrugged. “I guess.” If a coping mechanism meant that it helped him sleep at night, she was right. “So, does the list help?”

“I’m more interested in what you think. What do you think it all means?”

Rafa felt suddenly put on the spot. “That’s why I’m here,” he said, irritated. “I came for answers. You must know something.”

Ms. Martin shook her head slowly. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t.”

Rafa decided to go for it. He didn’t care if the next words out of his mouth sounded bonkers. “My scary stories are coming true. You warned me that day not to tell any scary stories during a blood moon, but I didn’t take it seriously. Now the Caretaker is here, and there’s a jaguar on the loose too. Those claw marks on everyone’s doors belonged to a jaguar, not a mountain lion. I looked it up last night.”

“Go on,” she said.

Rafa had expected a more negative response. He had expected her to shake her head and rebuke it or maybe even laugh at him, but she leaned forward instead.

“In my story, the jaguar scratched up a door.” He flipped through his journal until he landed on his story about the cat who becomes a jaguar. “Wild jaguars aren’t found in Missouri, and, like you said, there’s only a couple spotted in the whole country, but if the two stories I told during the blood moon are coming true … then my story brought the jaguar here. I know it.”

She leaned back in the chair with a pensive look. “I should have done a better job warning you, Rafa. This is all my fault.”

“So it’s true? How is this happening?”

“Not sure, but I do know that in ancient times, many cultures and religions believed that the blood moon or lunar eclipse was a warning of bad things to come. It served as a reminder to be ever watchful. More recently, it’s believed to stir up ghosts. Under the blood moon, sinister spirits latch on to children, especially children with a penchant for the supernatural. They feed the story to you, so they may haunt again. I believe this is the case with the Caretaker.”

“Is the jaguar evil?” Rafa asked. “Is he coming to get us too?”

“I believe the jaguar is Balam, my missing cat,” she said with all seriousness. “Using the power of the blood moon, he latched on to your story and transformed himself into the jaguar.”

Rafa fell silent, letting her words soak in.

“Then you believe me? That my stories caused all of this?”

“Yes,” Ms. Martin said, standing up. “I have something to show you. More proof that the jaguar is on the hunt.”

IN THE SUNLIGHT, MS. MARTIN’S SMALL POOL SPARKLED blue and silver while the fountain’s soothing flow reminded Rafa of how sleepy he was. A hammock tied between two trees looked tempting, but his curiosity outweighed his fatigue.

Ms. Martin paused near the edge of her property, where the row of slender cypress trees kept guard. “I found these this morning,” she said, pointing down at a set of large muddy paw prints heading from her yard and into the woods behind her property.

Rafa hunched down and placed his hands inside one. He compared it to the four-toed paw print images he saved on his phone. “Jaguar prints for sure. I wish I could see it.”

“Careful what you ask for, Rafa. The mighty jaguar will see you before you ever see him. And it can kill with one pounce.”

“But yesterday you said Balam only killed to protect.”

“You paid attention,” she said. “Balam is a protector; it’s true.”

“Couldn’t he go after the Caretaker for us?”

“This is not Godzilla versus King Kong, Rafa,” Ms. Martin said with raised eyebrows. “But I admit, it’s a nice idea. I do think it’s curious that Balam followed you on Friday. Either he sensed our bloodline, or he knew trouble was brewing and wanted to protect you.”

“Our bloodline?”

“Did your abuelo tell you that we’re related?”

“Distant cousins,” he answered.

“Not so distant,” she shook her head. “My abuela, Soccoro Fuentes, was your grandpa’s great-aunt. She married Jose Martinez. The story goes that Jose found an injured cat on his ranch in Arizona. He nursed the cat back to health and brought it with him to Missouri. He eventually realized that the injured kitten was a jaguar cub. He kept the jaguar secret to keep it safe. But one night, he let the cat out to roam, and it never returned. A few days later, there were rumors that a hunter was selling exotic fur. My abuela went to see. It was jaguar fur. Then one day a small cat showed up at their front door with the same jaguar markings and golden eyes. My abuela said that the jaguar loved our family so much that with its last breath, he transferred his soul to a small cat. Growing up, the cat was always around. I figured the story was simple family folklore, but my father insisted it was true. When Xavier died, Balam disappeared, too. We looked for him, but we had to leave. According to my grandma, Balam was bonded to our family. We could trust that he’d always return to someone in our bloodline. I found comfort in that. So, when I returned here, I took in every stray cat I found. Then, Balam showed up one day. He’d found me just as my abuela said he would.”

Rafa thought back to what his abuelo said about large cats leaving a message to other predators with bark stripping and scrapings. “If he’s a protector … maybe the scrapes on our doors were Balam’s way of telling the Caretaker to stay away.”

“For someone so young, you’re good at piecing things together, Rafa.”

“I’ve always had to.”

“You’re talking about life with your mom, Nicole?”

Rafa nodded and gazed down at the paw print between them. “Have you ever met her?”

“No, but your abuela talks about her a lot. She told me that you’re not happy about Nicole coming to live with you. Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not really. One ghost at a time, please.”

“Hmmm,” she said with a warm smile. “I see you, Rafael Fuentes. The stories you tell might be dark, but your heart is pure golden light. Don’t forget it.” Her words poured over him, and it felt good to be thought of as pure golden light. And he liked that they were distant cousins.

“Do I get to call you prima now?”

Ms. Martin let out a light laugh. “Sure.”

“There’s something else,” Rafa said. “I saw you at the bookstore. You picked up a ghost book and then put it back on the shelf and said it’s hopeless.”

“Have you always been so observant?”

“I’ve learned to be,” he answered.

“Yes, that makes total sense,” she said, nodding. Her phone pinged. She read it and smiled. “Observant, but you don’t answer texts from your abuelo. He’s on his way to pick you up and go the hardware store.”

They walked to the front porch, but Rafa still felt like there were a hundred unanswered questions. “But how do we stop the Caretaker?”

“I’ll keep scouring those notebooks for answers.”

“I can try to figure out who Tessa is,” he offered.

“Fine, but avoid the woods,” she said. “Check in with me if anything strange happens.” She pulled two long necklaces from under her blouse and pressed them into his hands. “Take these.” One was a long leather cord with a tiny jaguar medallion. The second was a blue beaded necklace with an embroidered blue eye on a small piece of cloth. “One for you and one for Brianna. Wear it for protection, even when you sleep.”

Rafa put the jaguar medallion on just as his abuelo pulled up the driveway. Rafa turned to Ms. Martin. “You never told me what was hopeless.”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“In the bookstore, that’s what you said.”

“Oh, yes,” she answered. “I thought it was hopeless to stop the Caretaker, but then you showed up. Now it no longer feels that way.”

LATER THAT EVENING, AFTER HELPING HIS ABUELO with a few chores, Rafa found Brianna in the basement. She was on the bed, with Nikki’s letters spread out in front of her.

“Brianna,” he said softly. “I have something for you.”

“What?” she grumbled. When she didn’t turn to face him, he realized that she was clearly unhappy that he’d left her that morning. He picked up one of the letters and spotted his name. In the letter, Nikki asked about him and wrote that she hoped he’d forgive her. A knot formed in his throat. He took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Nikki ended the letter with a word of the day. The word was stellar. He grabbed another letter. Its word of the day was ingenious.

“Has Nikki been teaching you all these big words?”

He scanned a few more. Each letter had one. When she didn’t reply, he sat down next to her and nudged her softly.

“Did you know that I swallowed a bunch of big words once?”

She twisted around to face him with an incredulous look. “What?”

“It gave me thesaurus throat I’ve ever had.”

Brianna snorted. “Dorky brother joke.” She got up from the bed and gathered the letters. “Do you even know where your letters from Nikki are?”

“Abuela keeps them in a shoebox. Why?”

“You should read them.”

“We’ve already talked about that. Not happening, Brie.”

“Where were you all day? Chasing the poor mountain lion?”

“Yeah, I found him. He’s waiting on your bed. He wants to snuggle.”

Brianna’s serious gaze broke into a smile, and she shook her head, amused. “Always telling stories.” She gazed over at the wall where the frame he smashed was supposed to be.

He’d almost forgotten about it and felt ashamed.

“Why did you have to break Abuela’s frame? It was a gift for Nikki.”

“It was an accident.”

“You’re having a lot of accidents lately.” She flashed her neon pink splint at him and headed toward the stairs.

“Wait! I have a gift for you from Ms. Martin.” He pulled the blue beaded amulet from his pocket. Brianna let him put it over her head. “She said it’ll protect you.”

“From what?”

“Evil,” Rafa answered. “Wear it always. Don’t take it off.”

She studied the embroidered eye. “You spoke to Ms. Martin about evil?”

“No, about her counseling center,” he said. “She said that you and I could go there with Nikki.”

Brianna narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “You’re lying again. I know that you want nothing to do with Nikki,” she said angrily. “And I can tell when you’re hiding something. What is it? Are you going to run away when I’m at camp?”

“I swear I’m not going anywhere. But about camp … I don’t think you should go.”

“Why?”

Rafa wanted to be honest with her about the Caretaker, but what if telling her the truth put her in danger? “It’s not safe.”

“Not safe? We’re the safest we’ve ever been in our whole lives,” she countered. “And I’m definitely going. Like you said, I should learn to do things without you. Nikki agrees.”

“You talked to her about it?”

“She called earlier while you were gone, not that you care anyway,” she said, leaving him in the basement.

Rafa shook his head in disbelief. Brianna was sharing things with Nikki? Nikki had some nerve to give advice, he thought. He and Brianna had been fine without her. Better than fine. Why was Nikki butting in?

*  *  *

That night, while Brianna slept, Rafa read through his notebook of scary stories using the light from his cell phone. In his stories, the main characters always found a way to slay the ghost, ghouls, or monsters. Most of the time, they visited a wizard or witch who gave them a potion or a magic weapon. Other times, his main character discovered why the ghost was restless. Usually, it was because their body hadn’t been properly buried. Other times, it was because they desired revenge. Is that what the Caretaker wanted? He reread the story. Reading it, knowing it wasn’t his anymore, was like reading it with a new set of eyes.

Just then, Brianna sat straight up in bed. “Why are you letting me drown, Rafa?” she said. “Don’t let him get me.”

“Brianna?” Rafa rushed to her. “Wake up, you’re having a bad dream.” He shook her shoulders gently.

She looked him dead in the eye and whispered, “ ‘Five, six, you’ll float like sticks.’ ”

Rafa stepped back, frightened. She closed her eyes, crumpled against her bed, and was asleep in seconds. Rafa sat on the edge of her bed watching her. She never had nightmares. What was happening? Had the Caretaker set his sights on her? Rafa spotted the beaded amulet on her dresser. He quickly wrapped it around her wrist like a bracelet.

“Don’t take this off, Brie,” he whispered. He felt like he was running out of time. How was he going to keep her safe?

She let out a shiver. “I’m cold.” From under the covers, her foot stuck out. He pulled a blanket from his bed and covered her, arranging it so she was tucked in tight. Then, like a clap of thunder, he remembered he wasn’t the only one who told a scary story last Friday. How could he have forgotten about Cash? Jayden said that Cash ended up telling the Furry Toe story after Rafa left. He wondered if Cash had seen anything strange since then? Would he admit it if he had? Rafa never imagined that he’d need to talk to Cash about anything, let alone in the middle of the night, but he had no choice. He sent a text. He didn’t care if Cash thought he was bonkers for texting so late. He had to reach him.

It’s Rafa.

We need to talk ASAP about the furry toe

After he sent the text, Rafa sat in bed and watched Brianna toss and turn. He feared the worst. Suddenly, an unexpected ping in the dark. It was Cash. He was still up too.

Tomorrow at the playground

WHEN CASH FINALLY TEXTED A TIME TO MEET AT the playground, Rafa was scarfing down a sandwich and adding Brianna’s nightmare to his list of strange happenings. In the living room, she and Grandpa hung the WELCOME HOME banner for Nikki. As usual, Brianna looked refreshed and energetic despite her tossing and turning most of the night. Rafa asked her if she remembered waking up and talking, but she didn’t. The only thing that struck her as strange was that she found the amulet wrapped around her wrist. Rafa reminded her to never take it off.

Cash wanted to meet at the playground at Grainsville Park. Ms. Martin had warned Rafa not to go anywhere near the park, but he felt he had no choice. He needed to know about Furry Toe. He grabbed his backpack and rushed out the door. As he passed Ms. Martin’s house, he considered stopping by to let her know about Brianna talking in her sleep and about Cash Ashford also telling a scary story that same night, but then he thought better of it. First, he should find out if Cash was experiencing anything strange. Maybe he was the lucky one and everything was fine.

Usually on summer days, the playground was filled with children scrambling up the castle play set and parents watching from benches. Today it was abandoned. Even with the trees providing shade, the summer sun was a scorcher. Rafa wore shorts and a T-shirt and was already sweating. He wished Cash would hurry up. Taking a seat on the bench dedicated to Tessa, he reread the haiku aloud, “Find me in the park / I will read you a story / That will set us free.”

Just then, a light breeze carrying the scent of honeysuckle brushed his face. He couldn’t help but wonder if Tessa was there, sitting next to him.

“Are you there?” he asked quietly, feeling like a fool. “I’m Rafa.”

After a few seconds, his phone pinged.

I’m Tessa

Rafa’s mouth gaped open, shocked. Behind him, he heard someone huffing and puffing on the trail.

“Why did you text me about Furry Toe at one a.m.?” Cash demanded, trudging toward Rafa, looking tired.

“Look, I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t important.”

“What do you want?”

“I need to know the Furry Toe story you told Jayden on Friday night.”

Cash rolled his eyes. “You called me here for a scary story? Don’t you have enough of your own?”

Rafa thought about walking away, since Cash was being a grouch, but he stayed because under Cash’s angry eyes were dark circles. The kind caused by sleeplessness. Rafa had them too. And Cash was wearing jeans and tennis shoes with socks on a blistering afternoon. Something was wrong.

“Forget it.” Cash turned and lumbered away slowly, like it hurt to walk.

“Wait, Cash!” Rafa yelled, bolting up from the bench. “I know we haven’t gotten along, but I think we’re going through the same thing. Our ghost stories have come true.”

Cash stopped and seemed to be listening.

“Have you noticed anything strange? I know I have.”

Cash spun around. His face was anxious. “It’s not just me?”

Rafa felt a sick feeling in his stomach. “No, it’s not just you.”

Cash walked back to Rafa and slumped down on the bench. “I can’t tell my family. They already make me feel like an idiot,” he said with a shaky breath. “It started the night of the blood moon after I told the story.”

“What started?” Rafa asked, sitting down next to him on Tessa’s bench. There was a stillness in the air. If Tessa was still there, Rafa was sure she was listening. In fact, it felt like the entire woods had quieted to hear them better. “Can you tell me the story? I need to know what we’re up against.”

Cash looked away reluctantly. After a few seconds, he nodded at Rafa as if ready to share.

“The furry toe man was part of a traveling circus. People came from near and far to see his horrific, furry, beast-like toes. While folks passed by his cage, he put on a show kicking up his feet, wriggling his furry toes at them. But this was all a setup to keep them distracted. While people gawked, Furry Toe’s assistant snuck up behind them and picked their pockets. They stole watches, jewelry, and money. One night, Furry Toe betrayed his assistant and took off with the goods. His assistant hired men to drag Furry Toe into a ditch. They chopped off his furry toes and left him to die. Now Furry Toe is a restless evil spirit searching for his other toes. It creeps under your bedcovers and scratches your feet and legs. It’s a sharp and annoying scratch that never stops. It wants you to swat it so that you touch it, but don’t ever touch it! If you touch the furry toe, it forms into the full furry toe man right in front of you. Then, because he’s a crooked thief, he steals your breath. You shrivel up and die.”

Rafa sat quietly. It was an awesomely gruesome story that would keep any kid afraid to go to bed at night. Worse, Rafa swore at that moment that something was scratching at his shin. He smacked away a mosquito. Cash tenderly rolled up his jeans. Rafa gasped. Cash’s ankles and shins were red and raw.

“Ever since I told Jayden that stupid story, I can’t sleep. Furry Toe shows up and pokes and scrapes at my legs. It doesn’t matter where I sleep: my bed, the couch, outside on my balcony, in a sleeping bag on the patio. If you know how to stop it, you’ve got to tell me,” Cash’s voice dripped with misery.

Rafa took a deep breath. Any more night visits from Furry Toe, and Cash wasn’t going to have any skin on his legs.

“My story about the Caretaker has started coming true too. We have to tell Ms. Martin about what’s happening to you. We should go right now.”

“Fine, I’ll do anything,” Cash said.

They hurried from the park and down Ms. Martin’s quiet street. As they did, Rafa did his best to explain everything he’d seen and experienced. With every creepy revelation, Cash surprised him with understanding and concern.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “How could you have known?”

Once they reached Ms. Martin’s driveway, her cats rushed up to Rafa, yowling with their tails whipping low back and forth, as if they were nervous.

“Something’s wrong,” Rafa said.

He ran to the front door. It was closed but unlocked.

“Ms. Martin!” he yelled, rushing through the house. Cash followed, and the cats raced ahead. At the dinner table was a pile of notebooks. Rafa recognized all of them. Attached at the top was a handwritten note.

If I don’t come back, please deliver these books to

Rafael Fuentes. He’ll need them urgently. Thank you.

Dr. Xanath Martin

“Did she mention leaving?” Cash asked.

“No,” he muttered. “She would have told me. Unless …” Rafa filled with dread. He hoped he was wrong. “Unless she went into the woods.” He shoved the books into his backpack and hurried out to the patio, yelling for her.

Cash scurried behind him. “Why would she do that after everything you told me about the Caretaker?”

“Not sure,” Rafa said, passing the pool and fountain. Ms. Martin’s cats sped ahead of him toward the line of emerald cypress trees that marked the end of her property and led to the west end of the woods where the sun dipped down every night. Rafa stared at the wild swatch of woodland in front of them. “I’ve got to find Ms. Martin, Cash. She’s the only one that can help us, but you don’t have to—”

Just then, a woman’s frightened scream ripped through the woods. He was certain it was Ms. Martin.

“I’m going with you,” Cash said.

They trampled through wild brush and grass that reached their knees, while wisps of fog reached for them like thick fingers pulling them deeper into the woods. Soon they were so deep into the woods that they could no longer see Ms. Martin’s house behind them nor the glint of the afternoon sun. They took turns yelling her name and then silently waiting for a response that never came.

“This side of the park is creepy,” Cash said, stepping over a downed tree limb.

“I know. It doesn’t feel like Grainsville Park anymore, does it?” Rafa said. “Ms. Martin!” he shouted, cupping his mouth with his hands. He wanted nothing more than to find her fast and get out of there.

Above them, a deep purple sky peekabooed between the tops of leafless trees. Gnarled tree limbs jutted out and scraped at their arms and back. Rafa worried about Cash. He already looked beaten up and tired. After walking some more with no sign of Ms. Martin, they came to a clearing with a pond. Suddenly, he heard light sobbing.

“Ms. Martin! Where are you?” Rafa called out, running toward the voice. Instead of Ms. Martin, a girl in denim overalls appeared at the edge of the pond. She sobbed into her hands. Every hair on Rafa’s body pricked up.

“This is like your Caretaker story, isn’t it?” Cash whispered in a panicked voice. “We should go back.”

“We can’t,” Rafa huffed, barely able to breathe. “Not without Ms. Martin.”

The girl locked eyes with Rafa, sending a sharp shiver up his spine. His cell phone pinged. Rafa didn’t dare touch it, but when it pinged again he slid it from his pocket with dread.

Find me in the park.

I will read you a story.

That will set us free.

Rafa’s legs wobbled as fear oozed through him. The girl in overalls was Tessa.

Cash looked at him curiously. “You okay?”

“It’s from her.” Rafa flashed the text for Cash to see.

“You’re texting with a ghost?”

Rafa nodded. “It started in the playground right before you showed up.”

Tessa gestured for them to come closer.

“According to my story, if Tessa is here, she’s going to ask us to jump in that pond, but then the Caretaker will get us. You stay here and keep watch.” Rafa started toward her, but Cash tugged him back.

“Are you nuts?” Cash clutched Rafa’s arm. “We’re here to find Ms. Martin. We should get as far away as possible from this place.”

Rafa pulled his arm away. “Maybe she knows where Ms. Martin is.”

“Fine, but we go together.”

Tessa’s sobs softened as the boys approached. Rafa’s eyes darted around the pond, expecting to spot other parts from his story, like the Caretaker’s warning sign. They stopped a few feet in front of her, hoping it’d give them a chance to run away should something strange happen. Up close, her eyes were a foggy pale blue. Her auburn hair dripped down her back as if she’d just had a swim. Beneath her white papery skin, thin purplish veins were visible, like the cracks on his abuela’s favorite teacup that she refused to throw away.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Tessa said softly. A pleasant scent of honeysuckle wafted from her.

“For me?” Rafa asked.

She nodded. “You’re the storyteller.”

“And you’re Tessa.”

She smiled faintly. “Can you get my journal for me? I threw it in the pond.”

“Sorry,” Rafa mumbled, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But I really need my journal,” Tessa said with a sniffle. “I will tell you a story that will set us free.”

Rafa glanced at the mucky, dull pond speckled with dead leaves and floating sticks, as if considering it.

“Forget it,” Cash snapped, stepping forward. “We’re not jumping in that swamp. We’re looking for Ms. Martin. Have you seen her or not?”

Tessa’s face crumpled into sobs. Cash rolled his eyes.

“Good job,” Rafa said, frowning at him.

“Sorry, Tessa.” Cash shook his head and muttered to Rafa, “I can’t believe I’m apologizing to a ghost.”

Tessa looked up from her hands. “She’s running. She’s hurt.”

“Who? Ms. Martin is hurt?” Rafa asked. “Tessa, where is she?”

“You should run too.” She turned her back to them and glided into the pond.

“Wait! Where?” Rafa yelled. “What direction do we go?” Rafa’s stomach twisted into knots as Tessa faded into the pond. “Who is she running from?” His phone buzzed.

Run Now

On the opposite end of the pond, a thick fog formed. As it drifted over the pond, the murky water gurgled and rippled as if coming to life. Cash stood frozen, entranced.

“C’mon!” Rafa tugged him by the arm, pulling him as fast as he could through the clearing and back into the woods. As they scrambled through the fog that engulfed them, high grass clawed at their legs, and tree branches smacked against their faces. From afar, a menacing growl shook black birds from every tree. The boys stopped in their tracks. An ominous silence shrouded them.

Cash looked at Rafa with wide, frightened eyes. “Was that the mountain lion?”

“No,” Rafa answered. In the rush to reach Ms. Martin, Rafa hadn’t told Cash about the jaguar story. “I told two scary stories that night. One about the Caretaker and another one about a jaguar.”

“Whoa,” Cash muttered in disbelief. “That’s why our doors were clawed?”

Rafa nodded. His phone vibrated. Every muscle in Rafa’s body clenched with fear as he read the new message.

The Caretaker Is Watching You

Rafa’s eyes darted around, wild and full of panic. “We have to get back to Ms. Martin’s yard.”

“Rafa,” Cash said, holding up a beige sneaker he’d picked up from the ground. Ms. Martin wore them that day at the bookstore. It proved she’d been in the woods, but where was she now?

Rafa grabbed it from him. “We gotta go now.”

He pointed in the direction of what he hoped was Ms. Martin’s yard. In a flash, they tore through the woods at a full sprint. As they did, tree limbs slammed down in their path, making the boys leap or dart around them. A thick fog curled and wisped around their legs, swallowing up the ground as they ran.

Keep Going

Finally, Rafa glimpsed a stream of sunlight and Ms. Martin’s house. With the fog at their heels, they darted through the tall cyprus trees, collapsing onto the cool grass of Ms. Martin’s backyard, where the sun shone above and a warm breeze brushed over them, carrying a floral scent. Rafa laid there, catching his breath when someone with one shoe hobbled past him toward the edge of the woods.

“Ms. Martin,” Rafa called out, pulling himself up. She stared fiercely into the woods, clutching an amulet in her hands. She slid a foot across the ground in front of her, as if creating a line, a barrier against whatever had stalked them.

“You will not harm these children!”

The fog slithered back, rolling against itself until it was out of sight. His phone pinged.

Help Her

For a second, Rafa wasn’t sure what Tessa meant, but when he looked up, Ms. Martin had crumpled to the ground.

He rushed to her side and held her trembling hand. “Ms. Martin, can you hear me?” He looked for an open wound or blood and found none. Rafa put his hand on her forehead. “Call nine-one-one, Cash.” Rafa ordered. “She’s burning up.”

Ms. Martin’s eyes snapped open. “Rafa,” she gasped.

“I’m here,” Rafa said, taking his backpack and placing it under her head. “Where were you? What were you doing?”

“I went to stop him, Rafa. He plans to kill. He’ll only fade when he’s had blood.” Her face twisted with pain. “Balam saved me. Balam is here,” she moaned, struggling to sit up.

“You shouldn’t move,” he said. “The ambulance is on its way.” Rafa thought about the growl they heard in the woods. Was Balam nearby, watching them from up in a tree or crouching low to the ground covered by the high grass? Just then, the cries of sirens drew closer.

“You have to promise me—” she started to say.

“The ambulance is here,” Cash announced as the emergency workers came running. They carefully loaded her onto a stretcher. As they carried her away, she reached for Rafa.

“Rafa, promise me you’ll stay away from the woods. Say it.”

“I promise.”

As the ambulance sped away, Rafa knew it was another promise to her he’d have to break.

“WHAT DO WE DO NOW, RAFA?” CASH ASKED AS HE scooped cat food from a bag into bowls lined up on the porch.

Ms. Martin’s cats sat and watched him patiently. There was a crunch of gravel as Rafa’s grandpa pulled up the driveway and parked.

“You okay, mijo?” his abuelo shouted, rushing toward him and pulling him into an embrace.

“The ambulance took her a few minutes ago. She looked bad,” Rafa explained.

His abuelo nodded. “I’ll call the hospital,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“Rafa,” Cash walked over to him. “What now?”

“My abuelo can drop us off at the library,” Rafa said.

“What’s at the library?”

“Answers.”

As his abuelo drove, he shared that Ms. Martin was going into emergency surgery. “It’s a good thing you boys found her,” he said. “You probably saved her life, muchachos.”

Rafa stared down at his hands, worried. He went over everything Ms. Martin said to him before she was taken by the ambulance. The caretaker was hungry for blood. Balam had saved her. Rafa promised to stay out of the woods, but there was no way he could do that. Not now.

“She’ll be okay?” Rafa asked.

“I hope so,” he said. “Are you sure you feel up to the library right now? You’ve had a scare, why don’t you come home and rest?”

Rafa shook his head. “It’s important I take care of this.”

As soon as they pulled up to the library, Rafa and Cash hurried inside. They stood at the front of the library, eyes darting around when someone squealed their names. Ms. Cortez, their sixth-grade teacher, bounced toward them.

“Wow! I cannot tell you how satisfying it is to see you guys here.” She beamed. “What are you guys up to? What can I help you find? A new scary book?”

“You work here, Ms. Cortez?” Cash asked.

“Yes, part-time in the summer. So, let me guess … you’re looking for some scary books? I have tons of recommendations. Have you ever read The Forgotten Girl by India Hill Brown?”

“We’re looking for information about Grainsville Park and a girl named Tessa who died there,” Rafa said.

“Oh?” she said with raised eyebrows. “Is this inspiration for a collaborative scary story from you guys? Love it.” She snapped her fingers. “Follow me.”

The boys followed her quick steps across the library and down a stairwell. The library’s downstairs was colder and smelled like lemon-scented wood polish. They passed aisle after aisle of journals and magazines and a few private meeting rooms. Then she sat down at a long table furnished with computers. She typed a few search words. After a couple of seconds, she pulled up a bunch of articles.

“Check these out,” she said, giving up her chair to Rafa.

Cash took the chair next to him.

“There are some physical files too. I’ll be back.” She hurried off.

Cash shyly pulled eyeglasses out of his side pocket. Rafa had never seen him in glasses before.

“I started needing them this past year,” he said, as if he felt a need to explain. He slipped on the green-framed glasses.

“They look cool,” Rafa said.

Ms. Cortez returned with a bunch of files. “This should give you a good start. If you need anything else, there’s a phone against the wall to reach the reference desk. I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Ms. Cortez,” they said at the same time.

“Check this out,” Rafa said, staring at the computer screen. “Who does that look like?” He pointed and zoomed in on an image of a young girl holding a certificate in her hands.

“It’s Tessa,” Cash said, immediately recognizing her.

“It says her name is Tessa Steiner. She won a writing award for her short story, ‘Books Are Bad.’ ”

“She was a storyteller too.”

“That explains the haiku on her bench,” Rafa said. “Her story is printed here.” The two boys leaned in to read the short story. After a few minutes, they chuckled.

“It’s gross but good,” Cash said. “I could have never come up with that.”

The story was about a father who didn’t let his daughter read books, but one night she rebelled. Rafa liked the story and was struck by a sick feeling in his gut. Tessa never had the chance to grow up and become a famous writer. If she had lived, maybe he would have found her books at the library or at school.

“It says that she started writing scary stories when she was eight and that she had a notebook full of scary stories and poems that she shared with her friends on Halloween. She called it, ‘The Notebook of Screams.’ ” Rafa wondered if that was the journal at the bottom of the pond. “Didn’t she say she threw her journal in the pond? What would make a writer throw their stories away?”

“I found something else,” Cash announced. “It’s not good.” He handed Rafa an old newspaper article.

GRAINSVILLE COUNTY, MO.—Police are

investigating a death at Grainsville Park.

11-year-old Tessa Steiner’s body was

found on Monday. Authorities and

volunteers conducted a search of the

park after witnesses reported seeing

the girl alone at the park the night

before. The cause of death is unknown.

Anyone who may have any information

should contact authorities immediately.

Rafa fell silent. He knew Tessa was a ghost, but reading about her death made everything more real. If she was a storyteller like he was, did the Caretaker latch on to her story too? Did she go into the woods alone to stop him the way Ms. Martin had tried?

The way he wanted to.

“There’s a strange note in one of these notebooks …” Rafa opened the Moleskine journal that belonged to Isabel Stork. “I think it’s meant to help us.”

I’M GOING TO SEE THE GIRL BY THE

POND. TOGETHER WE’LL STOP THE CARETAKER. IF YOU FIND MY JOURNAL, THEN I’VE FAILED.

Rafa felt the pieces in front of him shifting into place. “Like all ghosts, Tessa has unfinished business. Could stopping the Caretaker be Tessa’s unfinished business?”

“Just like Furry Toe’s unfinished business is searching for his toes.”

“Right, he wants to be his old crooked self again,” Rafa said. “Tessa isn’t here to hurt us. She wants her journal because it’s part of her unfinished business. But why?”

“In that note about failing … does it mean that if she and Tessa had succeeded, the journal would be gone?” Cash asked as Rafa stood up and started to pace back and forth. “I don’t get it.”

Rafa wasn’t sure he understood it either, but Cash was right. “If she succeeded, her journal would be gone because Tessa wants it, too,” Rafa guessed. “It could mean that Tessa needs every story told about the Caretaker to stop him and be set free.”

“I think that’s it,” Cash said. He glanced at a text on his phone and frowned. “Bad news, Rafa. It’s my uncle. The camp is still on for tomorrow.”

Rafa felt like someone had just smacked him hard. “Can’t be,” he muttered.

Cash’s uncle also sent a link to a video of a mountain lion laid flat on the back of a truck. Rafa felt a mix of panic and regret. That poor mountain lion wasn’t responsible for the marks on people’s doors.

“He says that animal control captured and sedated it. Camp is on as scheduled.”

“You have to tell him to cancel it,” Rafa said, shoving the notebooks back into his book bag.

Cash gave him a baffled look. “How do I do that?”

“Come up with something. Show him your legs. Tell him the truth.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” he muttered.

Rafa pulled the amulet from around his neck. “Put this on. Ms. Martin said it would protect us. Maybe it’ll prevent another visit from Furry Toe tonight.”

“What about you?”

“Brianna has one. That’s good enough for me.”

“Thanks, Rafa.”

He quickly put it on, and as he did, Rafa worried he’d made a mistake. There was a chance that Cash would fail to convince his uncle to cancel the camp trip. Rafa couldn’t take any chances. He knew what he had to do and maybe giving the amulet away so fast wasn’t wise.

“Hey,” Cash said, narrowing his eyes at Rafa as if able to read his thoughts. “You’re not thinking about doing anything stupid, right?”

“No.” Rafa shook his head. “No way.”

THAT NIGHT, AS SOON AS BRIANNA DOZED OFF, RAFA popped open the screen from the window. He’d worn his shoes to bed, and his book bag was packed with the notebooks and a flashlight. Once he was outside, he quickly replaced the screen and set off toward Ms. Martin’s house. As he walked down the block, he had a feeling that he was being watched. He picked up his pace.

Once he reached Ms. Martin’s house, he could have sworn he heard someone call his name. But as the cats strolled up to him, he figured it was just a cat mewing. He made his way to the back of the house, where the pool lights were still on, giving the entire backyard a silvery-blue glow. The cats followed him and then, without warning, scurried back toward the front of the house. Rafa was just about to step into the woods when he heard his name again. He spun around to find Brianna standing in her swan slippers and pajamas.

“What are you doing here?” He rushed toward her, panic-stricken that she’d followed him and annoyed with himself that he hadn’t heard her sooner.

“What are you doing?” she charged back. “You’re running away, aren’t you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not going to run away?” he said, trying to stall while he came up with an explanation. “I lost something … when we found Ms. Martin earlier,” Rafa rattled off an excuse, surprised at how easily the lie slipped from his tongue.

Brie blazed her hazel eyes at him. “And you had to sneak out now to find it? Must be super important.” The look on her face told him that she didn’t believe a word of it.

“Look, I’m not running away. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“But you’d make me chase after you in my pajamas in the middle of the night.”

“I didn’t ask you to follow me.”

Brianna shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t, but you should’ve known that wherever you go, I’m going too.” She fiddled with the amulet around her neck.

“That’s what worries me,” he mumbled, glancing back at the woods, knowing he had lost his chance to reach Tessa that night. He couldn’t let Brianna follow him into the woods, and he couldn’t tell her that he’d set a sinister spirit loose in the woods. What was he supposed to do now?

“You win,” he said, turning his back on the woods and extending his hand to her. “Let’s go back to bed.”

For what felt like eternity to Rafa, she stood with her arms crossed. When she finally took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze, Rafa exhaled. From behind them a tiny bell rang out as the trees rustled like shushing voices.

“What was that?” she said, glancing back. “I heard a little bell.”

Rafa looked at the cats scattered around the backyard, but none of them wore collars. He knew of only one of Ms. Martin’s cats that wore a bell. Balam. He looked up into the trees, thinking he might spot the jaguar, but he knew better. Ms. Martin had warned him, “the jaguar will see you, before you see it.”

“Probably wind chimes,” Rafa answered. Then he nudged her playfully. “Haunted wind chimes that ring when bad kids sneak out of their rooms.”

“Stop it. You won’t scare me.”

*  *  *

The next morning, Brianna’s voice was brimming with excitement.

“The Leals are here,” she shouted, poking her head in the bedroom door. “We’re leaving!”

Rafa stretched out, momentarily confused as to why he was on the other side of the room and in Brianna’s bed. When they returned home last night, she didn’t trust Rafa not to leave again, so she made him switch beds. She slept in his, near the window.

He reached for his phone from her nightstand. It was almost noon, he’d slept most of the morning away. He checked his messages and saw that Cash had sent a thumbs-up, which Rafa was relieved to see. He had doubted that Cash could convince his uncle to cancel the camp trip, but somehow he’d pulled it off. With camp canceled, he had more time to find Tessa.

Rafa cleaned up and rushed to the living room where he found Jayden and his sisters Nilda and Nora wearing baseball caps and book bags strapped to their backs. Brianna held a pink leopard-print sleeping bag.

“What’s that for?” Rafa asked.

“Brie needs one for the camp trip,” Nilda answered. “We had an extra.”

“Camp trip? It was canceled, right?”

“Who told you that?” Jayden asked. “It’s on. We leave in twenty minutes, bro.”

“That can’t be right,” Rafa said, rechecking Cash’s text. It was a thumbs-up, but now Rafa wondered if it was for something else. But what? He’d given his amulet to Cash to wear the night before. Was that the reason for the thumbs-up? Had the amulet fended off Furry Toe?

“Well, you’re not going,” Rafa said in a stern voice to Brianna. “Where’s Abuelo?” He rushed to his grandparents’ bedroom. “Abuelo!” he called out, hoping he could convince Abuelo to not let Brie go.

“He’s downstairs, fixing the frame you broke,” Brianna said angrily. “And you can’t tell me what to do.”

“Look, you’re not going,” he repeated. “So you don’t need a sleeping bag.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Before he could take a moment to breathe, Rafa snatched the sleeping bag from Brianna’s hands and barged outside. Everyone followed him to the porch. He heaved the sleeping bag out onto the yard like it was a bomb about to explode.

“You’re not going!”

“Rafa,” his abuelo said sternly, standing behind everyone on the porch. “You pick that up right now, mijo.”

Brianna looked on the verge of tears while everyone else looked shocked and confused. Rafa breathed in the midmorning heat. Inhale. Exhale. The rolled-up pink sleeping bag looked like something out of one of his scary stories. He half expected it to unravel and slither after him. He wished it would, so he could escape everyone’s stares. He grabbed the sleeping bag from the ground, brushed off a few blades of grass, and handed it back to Brianna.

“Sorry.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she hissed. “You busted Abuela’s beautiful frame; you almost broke my wrist; you tried to run away last night, even though you told me you wouldn’t; and now, since you can’t go to camp, you don’t want me to go either. You’re acting deranged and impetuous!”

“Brianna,” Rafa objected.

“I’m not finished!” She scowled. “You don’t read Nikki’s letters or even try to forgive her. So why should I forgive you? You’re way worse than Nikki ever was.”

Rafa was crushed. Did she really believe he was worse than Nikki?

“Listen to me, Brie. Ms. Martin can explain everything that’s happening.” Rafa took a deep breath. He had no choice but to tell them everything. It was his last hope. “I didn’t want to scare you, but you and everyone should know the truth. There’s an evil ghost in the woods called the Caretaker. He’s the reason Ms. Martin is in the hospital. He’s coming for all of us.”

“More stories?” Brianna said with irritation. She turned to Nilda and Nora. “I don’t want to be here with him.” She stomped into the house. Nilda and Nora followed.

“Rafa,” Abuelo said, shaking his head. “Why are you trying to scare everyone with this nonsense? Is this because Nicole is coming home tomorrow?”

Rafa dropped his head. “It has nothing to do with her. I’m telling the truth, Abuelo.”

Jayden stepped closer and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know you’re going through a lot, but Brianna will be safe with us.”

“You don’t get it?” Rafa said, letting his frustration simmer into anger. “Everyone is in danger. None of you should go into the woods today.”

Jayden stepped back with a worried expression. Brianna rushed out of the house with her things. She gave Abuelo a hug, and then stormed past Rafa without a word or a glance. Nilda and Nora trailed close behind.

“Brianna!” Rafa called out. She ignored him and kept moving. “Keep the necklace on. Don’t take it off, Brianna!”

“Hermano,” Jayden narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s happening? Does this have to do with that ghost kid you thought you saw? You said it yourself, maybe we should lay off the scary stories for a while. Take your own advice.”

Rafa felt like his heart had been trampled.

Jayden didn’t believe him. “Camp won’t be the same without you, dude,” he said, giving Rafa a pat on his shoulder. “I’m going to pray for you.” He jogged down the street and caught up with the girls.

“Better pray for all of us,” Rafa said under his breath.

RAFA SCRUBBED A PAN IN THE SINK, STILL THINKING about how Brianna said he was worse than Nikki. She’d also called him impetuous. He didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded like a wad of spit. On top of that, Jayden and his sisters looked at him with a mix of disgust and pity. Rafa didn’t blame them. They don’t understand what’s happening.

He barely understood everything that was happening either. All he knew was that he had to get to Tessa, but Abuelo had him cooling down with a bunch of chores. He’d already finished vacuuming, and now he was washing dishes, but he was so anxious, he could barely hold a plate straight. Added to that, Cash still hadn’t called him back. Where was he? Did he go to the camp and not tell him? When Cash finally called, Rafa was drying dishes.

“What happened, Cash? You were supposed to get camp canceled,” Rafa said.

“I tried, Rafa. I spoke to my uncle last night about Furry Toe. I even showed him my legs. He acted like he believed me and would help me, but then this morning, my mom dragged me to speak to a priest and have him cure me of my delusions. She also hid my phone from me. She says it’s an instrument of evil. But I know all her hiding places. If she catches me, I’m doomed.”

“Sorry,” Rafa said.

“It’s not your fault. Anyway, the amulet worked. Furry Toe never showed up, but my mom threw it down the toilet this morning. She says it’s evil too. What do we do now?”

“The only thing we can. I’m going to get Tessa’s journal for her. Maybe that will stop all of this.”

“I’m going with you. I’ll pick you up.”

“Hurry.” Rafa hung up the phone, hoping they could get there in time.

“Rafa,” Abuelo called out from the top of the basement stairs. He walked into the kitchen and looked over the rack of freshly washed dishes. “How are you doing, mijo?”

Rafa tried to smile, although he knew he was going to have to lie to his abuelo, and that didn’t feel very good. “Cash Ashford called. He said I was reinvited to the camp … so, if that’s okay with you, I’d like to go. I finished my chores.”

A wide smile stretched across his abuelo’s face. “That’s good news, mijo, but do you have a minute to talk?”

“Well, Cash is on his way right now. I need to pack.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I know,” Rafa answered. “I’m fine.”

He looked up at his abuelo’s concerned gaze and realized there was nothing he could tell him. Nothing that wouldn’t put his abuelo in danger or lead him to believe that Rafa was out of his mind. He hugged his abuelo.

“Thank you, Abuelo, for everything.” After a few seconds, he pulled away. “I have to grab my stuff.”

He rushed to the bedroom to change into cargo pants and sneakers and grab his book bag. Both beds were made. Brianna must have made them when she grabbed her things with Nora and Nilda. His heart ached. She was always such a Miss neat-freak.

Then a horrible thought struck him. What if he never saw her again? What if he never saw his abuelos again? He slumped on his bed and took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. His book bag hung from a wall hook where he’d left it, but it was unzipped. He swore he’d closed it the previous night. He grabbed it off the hook to check that the notebooks were still inside.

“No, no, no,” he groaned. His notebook wasn’t there. “This can’t be happening.” In desperation, he dumped the bag’s contents onto the bed and a folded note tumbled out.

Rafa, don’t be mad. I’ve taken

your journal. Since you can’t be

at camp, I thought I’d tell one

of your scary stories tonight. I

meant to ask permission, but you

never gave me a chance. I’m taking

the flashlight too. —Brie

“Why, Brianna?” Rafa said, stashing the other notebooks and journals into his bag. Outside on the porch, he heard Cash talking to his abuelo. He ran out of the room and to the porch. There was no time to lose. “Let’s go, Cash.”

Abuelo followed them to the end of the yard. “Don’t you need a sleeping bag, mijo?” he shouted after him. Rafa hopped on Cash’s bike.

“My uncle has everything we need, Mr. Fuentes,” Cash answered. “Be back tomorrow.” Cash pedaled away with Rafa riding on the back. “Which way?”

“We have to go to camp. Brianna took my journal. We need it for Tessa.”

Cash pedaled faster. They rode past Ms. Martin’s house and past the castle playground where Tessa’s bench was. They rode over the wooden bridge, where Rafa would normally turn left to Jayden’s house. Instead, they steered right, which led deeper into the woods and to where the campsite was located.

Once the boys reached as far as they could on the bike, Cash stashed it under some brush, and they trekked on foot following an uneven, rocky trail. There was an immediate change in the air. An eerie stillness quelled the summer breeze. Above them, the sky turned a sickly shade of yellow. It felt threatening, as if a tornado was brewing. Cash was mostly quiet and Rafa worried that maybe he wasn’t up to seeing Tessa again. He wasn’t totally sure he was up to it either, but he felt he had no choice.

“I have to get something off my chest,” Cash blurted. “I never apologized about the camp trip,” Cash explained with a heaviness in his voice. “I’m the reason you were uninvited. I was in the office getting a printout for another teacher, and a letter to your grandparents was there. I guess Ms. Cortez had left it. I shouldn’t have read it, but I did. Then I opened my big mouth to my uncle. Honestly, he didn’t care about your grades, but I pressed him. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Rafa said, feeling a strange calmness surge through him. “I figure we both have a lot to be sorry about now.”

“There’s something else.”

Rafa nodded to let him know he was listening.

“The reason I’ve been a jerk to you is because my parents don’t like you. Well, they don’t approve of you because of everything with your mom, you know. It’s really not you. It’s not your fault.”

Rafa reacted with a quick shrug as if letting the confession bounce off him. “I’m used to that,” he said calmly, although he felt it was unfair. “Everyone thinks Nikki is bad so Brianna and I must be bad too, but my abuela says that Nikki is sick, not bad. And her path doesn’t have to be ours.”

Just then, both their phones buzzed. It was a selfie from Jayden. In it, Jayden, Brianna, and Nora were posing by the fire pit. Brianna was making a peace sign with one hand, and on the other she still wore the bright pink splint. Rafa couldn’t help but smile. He exhaled a deep breath, feeling grateful that she was safe.

“They’re fine,” Cash muttered. And then—“What’s that behind them? Do you see that?” Cash asked, studying the image on his phone with a serious gaze. “It’s a face.”

Rafa felt a sharp tingle of fear as every hair on his body stood straight up. He snatched the phone from Cash’s hands.

“Where?”

“Right there. It’s a face.” With a trembling finger, Cash pointed to where a face formed out of the smoky fog behind their friends. Its mouth gaped open, and its eyes narrowed in on Brianna and the others, who were clueless to what lurked behind them.

“How far are we?”

“Close,” Cash answered. “Let’s keep going.”

“I’m calling Jayden. Call your uncle. Reach anyone you can,” Rafa said as they handled their phones and jogged ahead to reach the campsite. After a few seconds, each call Rafa made dropped. “Any luck?”

“They’re not getting through.”

“Mine either. Let’s pick up the pace,” Rafa said. His heart raced and his head was spinning. If anything happened to Brianna, he could never forgive himself. Please, please, please. Let her be safe.

After a while, they were in the thick of the woods, where it was suddenly darker.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Cash said, stopping. “We should be right on top of the campsite. There should be a sign here.”

“Did we go the wrong way?” Rafa asked, switching on his cell phone light to get a better look around. Cash did the same. They walked a little more until Rafa stepped on something hard. It was the campsite sign toppled over on the ground.

“We’re at the campsite,” Rafa said. “Where is everyone?”

THE SMALL CAMPSITE LOOKED AS IF A TORNADO had dropped down on top of it or a giant had stomped through. The volleyball net was twisted around a tree. Tents were collapsed, while others dangled from tree limbs above. Grills and the campers’ belongings were scattered across the wide-open space. Rafa and Cash stood frozen, trying to take it all in.

“Hello!” Rafa yelled out, using his cell phone light to scan the area. Just then, there was a noise of crunching grass behind them. They whirled around to see a half-deflated and dented volleyball rolling toward them.

Cash gasped next to him. “How is it doing that?”

The crumpled ball rolled closer until it stopped at Rafa’s feet. He kicked it defiantly. “Who’s there?”

Directly ahead of them, something rustled behind a tree. A pale face stared out from a thicket of bushes. Rafa froze with fear, but he somehow steeled himself, and managed a shaky breath.

“Show yourself!” Rafa shouted.

From the shadow of an evergreen tree, a boy crawled out. It was the same boy from the woods and Rafa’s nightmare. The boy crawled closer, smirking at them with curled blue lips and steady pale eyes. Behind Rafa, Cash let out a slight yelp as the boy skulked closer.

“We gotta get out of here,” Cash said, yanking Rafa’s arm.

“It’s Xavier Martin,” Rafa muttered. “I don’t think he’ll hurt us.”

Cash backed up farther and tripped, pulling Rafa down with him.

The boy hovered over him. “I warned you!” he screamed. “You shouldn’t have come here!”

Rafa looked away and thought about the boy he saw in the picture at Ms. Martin’s house.

It’s Xavier, he told himself. It’s Xavier. Once upon a time, he was a boy who wore Godzilla T-shirts, held cats, and filled a journal full of stories.

Rafa forced the words out. “I know you w-warned me,” he stammered between clenched teeth. “But I didn’t have a choice.”

Xavier’s mouth creased into a wicked smile. A trickle of black water dripped from his matted hair and down his sunken face. Rafa cringed. Next to him, Cash covered his face, and whimpered.

“I know who you are,” Rafa pressed. “You’re Xavier Martin. We know your sister, Xanath.”

The boy tilted his head sideways, his neck popping. “You know my sister?”

“She told me about you. She said that you died here. She believed you were murdered.” Rafa twisted around for his backpack. He pulled out Xavier’s journal. “She gave this to me.” He placed it in front of him. Rafa glanced at Cash; he looked terrified and ready to bolt.

Xavier reached out to touch the journal, and as he did, his pale skin warmed into a dark tan. His cracked blue lips turned a smooth light pink. His wet, matted hair became dark brown and spilled over his eyes. His body filled out until he looked like the kid Rafa had seen in Ms. Martin’s pictures. Xavier’s brown eyes glided over the journal. “My scary stories.”

With Xavier’s sudden transformation, Rafa relaxed. “Listen, I told the same Caretaker story as you. Your sister also gave me these journals. All of them have a poem or story about the Caretaker written by other kids. I brought them here to give to Tessa, but I need to find my sister. She and our friends are supposed to be here. Do you know where they are?”

“The Caretaker has them trapped in the fog like beetles in a spider’s web.”

Rafa felt his heart drop. He couldn’t stand the idea of Brianna or any of his friends being trapped. “We have to help them,” Rafa urged, though he felt like crying. “I have a plan. I think I’m supposed to take all these stories to Tessa. I have every story written about the Caretaker, but I don’t have mine anymore. My sister took it. I have to find her first. How do I do that?”

Cash stood up, timidly watching Xavier. He cleared his throat. “Maybe the journal is here, Rafa,” he said. “Maybe she left it.” He scanned the ground and checked under the collapsed tents and grills. “What happened here? Did you do this?” Cash asked Xavier.

“The Caretaker picked them off one by one,” Xavier said. “He shrouded himself with fog and sucked them in the same way a river current can pull you under. That’s what happened to me. That’s what happened to them.” Xavier slid the journal back to Rafa. “It’s too late.”

Rafa shook his head, refusing to believe it was too late. “Why do you say that? There must be a way to stop him,” he said as Cash continued to poke around the scattered clothes. “You’ve been trying to warn me this whole time. I know you don’t want more children to disappear in the woods. Help us.”

“When I lived with my family, there was a legend about a park caretaker who took a bunch of children. We thought it was a story to keep kids from hanging around the park late at night, but turns out it was true. I told my story during a blood moon, and then the Caretaker whispered to me in my dreams until I could no longer sleep. I followed his whispers to the woods one night. There was a girl who’d told me the whispers would stop if I pulled her journal from the pond. I was desperate to be free. I jumped in. When I came out, the blood moon was in the sky, and the darkest, coldest night wrapped around me. The Caretaker was there, whispering, ‘one, two, I’m coming for you.’ Now I roam like the others.”

“There are others?” Cash asked, looking around cautiously.

“All of them trapped forever in these dark woods full of fog, whispers, and cold,” Xavier answered sadly.

Rafa thought back to Tessa’s haiku. “Find me in the park / I will read you a story / That will set us free.” Is that what she meant? Could finding her journal set them free?

Rafa looked over at Cash, who frowned and picked something off the ground. It was a bright pink splint. Rafa felt nauseous. Cash trudged over with his head down and handed it to him.

“There’s a message, Rafa,” he said. In black marker was Brie’s handwriting.

HIDE NOW

AS XAVIER LED THEM THROUGH THE DARKNESS OF the woods, Rafa tucked Brianna’s splint into his book bag. He trudged along, overwhelmed with worry and gloom. He wondered if she left the splint on purpose or if it’d been ripped from her arm. A part of him wanted to believe that the message meant she was somewhere hiding.

“Is it possible to hide from the Caretaker?” Rafa asked.

“Not for long,” Xavier answered. “The Caretaker is always watching. This is his realm. He sets traps. We need to keep moving. Staying in one place makes it too easy.”

Rafa thought about that time in the woods with Cash. The fog had been thick, and tree branches fell in their path. “Your sister warned me not to tell any scary stories during a blood moon, but I ignored it. Now my sister and friends are paying for it.”

“We all have the same regret, but regrets won’t save your friends,” Xavier replied, sounding wiser than he appeared. “Nobody warned me about the blood moon curse. The same night I told the story about the Caretaker, one of my friends told a story about the knocker.”

“What’s the knocker?” Cash asked, wincing.

A chill ran up Rafa’s spine. He didn’t want to know what the story was about and he wished Cash hadn’t asked.

“Just to be safe, I won’t repeat the story, but as bad as the knocker was, the Caretaker is way worse.”

“I told a story about the furry toe,” Cash admitted. “Ever since, I haven’t been able to sleep. It sneaks under my bedcovers and scratches my legs. Nothing stopped it until Rafa loaned me an amulet your sister gave him.”

Xavier smiled faintly at the mention of his sister. “Do you still wear it?”

“My mom took it this morning.”

“Too bad,” Xavier muttered.

“Your sister is a famous child psychiatrist now,” Rafa said. “She writes books.”

Xavier smiled wide, and it reminded Rafa of how he felt whenever Brianna brought home a straight-A report card or a special award from school.

Cash let out a sudden groan. He leaned over and picked something off the ground. It was Jayden’s drone. It was mangled. He stuffed it into his backpack sniffling.

“We’re going to find them, Cash,” Rafa said. “Keep your head up.”

“Your hope is good,” Xavier muttered.

“I get it from my grandma. Her name is Esperanza, which literally means ‘hope’ in Spanish. She’s hopeful about everything. My abuela has too much hope when it comes to Nikki.”

“Nikki?” Xavier asked.

“Nikki is supposed to be my mom, but a mom takes care of her children. She didn’t do that.”

“You’re mad at her,” Xavier said softly with a nod. “Here in these woods, there is always anger. It freezes us. He will use that against you, Rafa.”

“How?”

“I pray you don’t find out,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me a sweet story about Nikki, instead.”

“A sweet one?” Rafa said weakly, watching as Xavier’s face fluctuated between warm tan and icy pale blueish.

“Maybe a birthday memory?” Cash offered. “Or maybe she took you trick-or-treating for Halloween?”

Rafa kicked at the ground. “You’d have better luck with Cash telling a story, I think.”

“I want to hear about your mom.”

There was a quiet stillness, as though the entire woods were listening in on their conversation and waiting for Rafa to answer. He thought hard, trying to remember a time where he felt safe or happy with Nikki. After a few minutes, he finally landed on something that he hoped would please Xavier.

“One day, I fell down some stairs,” Rafa began. “Nikki took me to the emergency room. I don’t remember how long I was out, but when I woke up, Nikki had her head down crying. She didn’t know I was awake. I heard her promise God that she’d be a better mom if I would just be okay. She kept repeating it, ‘I promise I’ll be a better mom.’ When she saw that I was awake, she hugged me really tight. I remember thinking that everything was going to be better because she made a promise to God,” Rafa said, and then he shrugged. “That’s all I have.”

“Did she become a better mom after that?” Xavier stopped walking and looked at Rafa with hopeful eyes.

Rafa hesitated. “Well, if I tell you any more, it won’t be a sweet memory.”

Xavier frowned and turned back to the path. “I was rooting for her.”

“Me too,” Cash said. “What happened?”

“For a while, she kept her promise. She stopped using, and we lived at a motel. We’d share blueberry pancakes for breakfast almost every day, but then her old friends started calling again. A month later, she was arrested, and we moved in with our grandparents.”

Xavier paused next to Rafa. “Your mom may not be the person you want or deserve, but she’s alive, which means there’s hope. You’re lucky to still have her. Remember that.”

Rafa wasn’t sure what to say. Deep down, he didn’t feel lucky. Mostly he felt exhausted and guarded with Nikki in his life. He stared up at the sky, turning darker by the moment, as black clouds drifted overhead. He thought about Brianna. If she was there, she’d agree with Xavier. She was convinced that Nikki deserved another chance. He realized now—carrying Brie’s wrist splint in his backpack and not knowing if she was safe—that all their disagreements about Nikki’s letters were ridiculous now.

Just then, there was a rustling sound as something scuttled across the ground. Rafa aimed his light, but it scurried off near Cash, who’d stopped to pull something out of his backpack. After a few seconds, Cash screamed, swatting his pant leg like a maniac.

“Get it off! Get it off me!”

Rafa saw a toe with matted grayish-brown fur, and a curved yellow nail scurry out from under Cash’s pant leg and disappear behind a tree. It was the size of a fuzzy tarantula or baby rat.

“Where’d it go?!” Cash shrieked.

Rafa pointed the dim flashlight at the foot of a tree where it stirred. All of them stayed dead quiet waiting for it to creep out. After a few seconds of silence where no one even dared to breath, there was a low, guttural growl.

“What is it?” Xavier whispered.

“Furry Toe,” Rafa answered as Cash rushed over to his side.

“Do you remember what I said about touching Furry Toe?” Cash whispered.

“Please tell me you didn’t, did you?” Rafa asked.

“I might have,” Cash admitted.

Rafa grabbed a nearby stick. He hoisted it in front of him like a lightsaber, ready to fight. Cash grabbed one too. There was more rustling and growling behind the tree as the boys lifted their sticks. Every second waiting, not knowing if the Furry Toe was about to jump out, made the stick feel heavy like steel pipe. He could barely hold it straight.

A shadow moved from behind the tree. Rafa took a deep breath. “Stay back! I’m warning you!” he yelled.

Just then, a full grown jaguar stepped forward. From its mouth dangled the filthy, matted furry toe, wriggling and trying to free itself. The jaguar shook the toe viciously and then placed it at Xavier’s feet like a gift. “Balam,” Xavier gasped while Rafa and Cash jumped back in horror. Furry Toe scampered off, but it didn’t get far before Balam pounced on it, swatting it between his thick paws.

“It’s evil,” Xavier said to the jaguar. “Can you help?”

The jaguar grunted. He snatched Furry Toe up with his mouth. With a terrifying crunch, the jaguar chomped down until the furry toe was gone.

Cash suddenly grabbed onto Rafa’s arm, wobbly and pale. “I’m going to be sick,” he moaned.

“Try to breathe,” said Rafa. He let his eyes drift over the magnificent beast, standing on powerful limbs and large paws. More menacing were his massive jawline and sharp white teeth. His tan fur coat was marked with a hundred dark floral shapes. The big cat stepped closer to Xavier and bowed his head for a pet.

“Your sister told me about Balam and how he’s bonded to your family,” Rafa said, wishing he could pet the jaguar too. “I mean our family.”

Xavier gave him a knowing smile and gestured for him to come closer. Rafa did.

“As long as one of us is alive, he’ll always return to protect us. Why didn’t you say we were family?” Xavier asked.

Rafa shrugged and reached out to pet Balam. His fur was silky soft and thick. “Most of the time you were creeping me out. You didn’t leave a lot of time for a chitchat.”

“This could change everything for you, Rafa. You may have a chance now.”

“What does that mean?” Cash asked, still looking pale from the encounter with Furry Toe.

“It means with Balam’s help we can stop the Caretaker,” Rafa answered.

Xavier pointed toward some underbrush. “We’re not alone.”

“Paws, not claws?” said a tender voice Rafa recognized.

“Paws, not claws!” he shouted back.

From the woods, Nilda and Nora stepped forward. Rafa’s heart leaped and then dropped. Where was Brianna?

AT LAST, BRIANNA STEPPED OUT IN HER BLACK boots. When she did, Rafa swept her up into a hug, feeling like his heart would burst.

“Brianna! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she said, strangely calm. She clutched Rafa’s hand. “You were telling the truth when you said there was something evil in the woods. Jayden is missing. Everyone is missing.”

Brianna was suddenly quiet. “Who’s he?” she asked, pointing at Xavier.

“He’s Xavier,” Rafa answered. “Ms. Martin’s little brother. He’s helping us.”

Brianna nodded like she understood and managed a faint smile for him. “The jaguar is here … from your story, Rafa,” she said. “Does this have something to do with what Ms. Martin warned us about?”

Rafa nodded, but he wanted to cry. Why hadn’t he listened to Ms. Martin? Looking back now, he should have never argued with his abuela, and taken off that night angry and selfish. If he had helped his abuela instead of fighting her, none of this would have happened.

As if reading his mind, Brianna squeezed his hand. “It’s not your fault.”

“What happened at camp? Can you tell us?” Rafa asked.

Brianna explained how after lunch, a few of them went to fly Jayden’s drone.

“When we returned to camp, we found out two kids were missing. Cash’s uncle went to look for them, and he didn’t return. Nayeli and another camp leader went missing too. I remembered what you told us about an evil ghost in the woods coming to get us.” Brianna’s voice quivered. “My gut told me to run and hide, but I couldn’t convince everyone. Most of them wanted to stay in place.”

“What about Jayden?”

Nilda and Nora began to sniffle. Brianna took a deep shaky breath. “First, we saw the fog, and then a man appeared. He had glowing eyes and he whispered a rhyme about one, two, I’m coming for you. I heard Jayden scream and then he was gone. There were more screams. We ran off. We stuffed ourselves into a hollowed-out tree. We were hiding there when the jaguar showed up.”

“We thought he’d kill us, but he sat in front of the tree until the whispering fog went away,” Nilda continued.

Brianna reached for the large cat’s gold leather collar with Balam engraved on it. “It’s Ms. Martin’s cat, Rafa. The protector, remember?”

“I know,” he said, hoping there was still some way to save their friends and get out of the woods alive. “Do you still have my journal?”

Brianna pulled it out of her book bag and handed it to him.

“We’ve got to get you out of here. Cash can guide you out.”

“We can’t split up,” Cash argued.

“I’m not willing to risk them being taken,” Rafa said. “I have to find Tessa and stop this.”

“I want to stay with you, Rafa,” Brianna said.

“Me too,” Nilda said. “We’re not leaving without Jayden and Nayeli.”

Rafa shook his head. His need to keep Brianna safe was too strong. “I can’t risk it. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Rafa,” Brianna said. “When Balam was guarding us, I thought about all the times you’ve protected me. I realized how tough it’s been for you to always be on guard for the both of us. It’s not fair, Rafa.”

“I don’t mind. I’m your brother.”

“I’m your sister. You don’t have to fight every battle alone.”

“Fine,” Rafa said, feeling touched by Brianna’s words but still uncertain. He turned to Xavier. “How do we find Tessa?”

“We keep moving. She’ll find us.”

Balam and Xavier led the way through the trees and wild brush. There was no sign of anyone. After a few minutes, Balam stopped, with his eyes blazing toward an oncoming fog that slithered through the trees.

Balam let out a slow grunting growl and bared his sharp, white fangs.

“He’s here,” Brianna whispered as fog encircled them. Rafa pulled Brianna closer to him.

“Run!” Xavier shouted. “Don’t stop!”

Rafa and Brianna ran, but suddenly Nilda and Nora screamed. When Rafa turned to see what was happening, Nilda was lunging to grab Nora, as fog wrapped around her like two ghostly hands. Brianna rushed forward to help, but it was too late. The fog blanketed Nora and Nilda, silencing their cries. Rafa pulled Brianna to him. Ahead of them, Cash was at full sprint. They scrambled through the woods while Balam stayed back, growling at the fog that covered everything in its path. As they escaped, Balam yowled painfully.

“We have to help him!” Brianna cried, wriggling away from Rafa.

“No, Brianna! Stop!” Rafa protested, yanking her back. “We have to get to the pond. That’s how we help everyone.” Despite what he told Brianna, Rafa slowed down, and when looked back over his shoulder, he couldn’t see Balam anymore.

“Rafa! I see her!” Cash yelled from a few feet ahead of them. They raced ahead, swerving around thorny bushes and gnarled branches. Rafa checked over his shoulder. The whispering fog was gaining on them. Suddenly, he felt his feet slip beneath him as he tumbled down a steep drop. Brianna shrieked as they toppled down a ravine, landing sprawled out in a bunch of mud. Rafa picked himself up first and then pulled up Brianna. Cash moaned, rubbing his head.

Xavier was nowhere to be found.

“Xavier!” Rafa called out.

“I’m here,” he mumbled. Rafa found him slumped down in front of a wooden sign that read, I’M WATCHING.

“The sign,” he said. “This is as far as I can go. This is where I met my end.”

“I understand,” Rafa said with a nod.

“Listen to me, Rafa. When I met my end, Balam was only a kitten. He tried to save me, but he died that night too,” Xavier explained sadly. “Now he’s back as a jaguar, he can move between the dead and living worlds. He’s your best chance to stop the Caretaker.”

“But where is he?” Rafa asked looking around. The last he’d seen or heard of Balam was that cry of pain. “What if he’s …” Rafa didn’t want to say what he feared.

“Don’t worry. He’ll always find family,” Xavier said. With that, Xavier faded, leaving them on their own.

They scrambled up the ravine toward the edge of the pond where Tessa stood sobbing into her hands.

Next to him, Brianna shuddered.

“It’s Tessa,” Rafa said. “She can help us stop the Caretaker.”

They approached Tessa, who quickly gestured to the pond. “I threw my journal in the pond. Will you get it for me?”

“Why do you need your journal so badly, Tessa?” Rafa asked. “I’m not jumping in until you give me answers. What’s in it?”

“The end to his story,” she answered.

“What do you mean?” Cash asked.

“One summer night, when there was a blood moon in the sky, I made a rhyme about the park caretaker for my friends. ‘One, two, the Caretaker’s coming for you. Three, four, you’ll breathe no more. Five, six, you’ll float like sticks. Seven, eight, you’ll meet your fate. Nine, ten, the Caretaker comes again.’ ”

Rafa and Cash exchanged a look. It was the same rhyme he’d included in his story that first night.

“I didn’t know that by telling the story, it would wake him and he’d start haunting us. One of my friends died the night after I read my rhyme. They said she was sleepwalking. She fell into a pond and died. But I knew it was him. To end his haunting, I found the pond, and threw my journal into it. I hoped it would stop the story and stop him, but it didn’t. He came for me. Now the story is stuck, it keeps repeating itself every blood moon. There’s no way to give my rhyme a different ending—but you can, Rafa. You can end your story in a way that stops him.”

Rafa thought about all the times his abuela had encouraged him to write his nightmares down and give them endings full of hope. Now, Tessa was telling him he could end the story in a way that would save his friends and stop the Caretaker forever. Was it possible?

“You’re the last storyteller. It can only be you.”

“I’ll do it,” Rafa said, pulling off his backpack and tossing his shoes and socks on the ground. He gazed around the clearing, hoping to see Balam, but there was no sign of the jaguar.

Brianna tugged at him. “I don’t think you should do it, Rafa.”

“You should wait for Balam,” Cash said.

“I have to do it now,” Rafa said, passing Brianna his cell phone. “It may be the only way to stop the curse.”

“If I see anything weird, I’m jumping in after you,” Cash said.

“No.” Rafa shook his head. “No matter what happens, get Brianna out of here. Promise me?”

Cash nodded in agreement.

Rafa pulled the notebooks from his book bag and handed them to Tessa. “I think you need these.” He stepped toward the edge of the dark green pond, taking a few deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale.

He walked further, his bare feet sinking into the slushy pond floor. When the murky water was at his waist, he stopped and glanced back at Brianna and Cash. Cash waved and Brianna gave him a brave close-lipped smile. He sucked in a deep breath and ducked down into the water. Totally submerged, he swam to the bottom of the pond.

Although the water was dark, he spotted the small journal protruding from the pond’s sludgy floor. Rafa tugged at it and it ripped in his hands. When he had pulled out the last chunks of it, he kicked up and burst through the pond’s surface.

As he did, a freezing chill stung him. He looked toward the edge of the pond where he had left Brianna and Cash, but they weren’t there. He was all alone now.

ON THE SURFACE OF THE POND, RAFA SAW A REFLECTION of the blood moon glowing above him. Had it been there this whole time? No, he knew it hadn’t. He was somewhere else now. Somewhere cold where evil lurked. He could feel it in the frozen air.

Even though he knew he had to keep moving, he dipped lower into the warm water to avoid the freeze that made his teeth chatter and his face and ears tingle. The water warmed his entire body and he wished he could stay there and never have to face the frigid air outside the pond, but then a distant voice called out for him.

“Brianna!” He shouted back. “I’m here!”

He scrambled out of the pond, soaked to the bone. As he tried to stand, a bone-chilling freeze almost knocked him down. Stepping out of the pond was like stepping into a meat freezer in wet, heavy clothes. His whole body shivered uncontrollably. He blinked through the darkness, and gazed around at shoes scattered around the pond. His heart hammered in his chest. They were children’s shoes!

“Brianna! Cash!” he yelled, panicked. He scanned the shoes and was relieved that Brianna’s combat boots weren’t there. Despite the ice-cold fear that clung to him, he tottered to a pair of sneakers that looked like they’d fit him and quickly put them on. They were damp but better than nothing.

“What do I do now?” he muttered. He clutched Tessa’s drenched journal and knew he needed the other journals fast, but they were nowhere to be found. His heart raced. How would he stop the Caretaker without the other journals? With only the soft glow from the blood moon, he searched for them when a tendril of fog drifted past him. Rafa’s stomach twisted with fear. Was it too late? He stopped in his tracks as fog hovered over him and children’s voices began to whisper: “One two, he’s coming for you … three four, you’ll breathe no more …”

Rafa’s heart thumped hard as every molecule in his body told him to run. But where? Where was he supposed to run? He had no idea where he even was.

“It’s too late for you, storyteller,” whispered the Caretaker, unfurling himself from the fog into a tall, vaporous figure floating across the ground toward him.

Rafa backed up, trembling from both the icy air and the Caretaker’s menacing presence. Tessa’s journal dropped from his shaky hands and before he could pick it up, it slid to the Caretaker.

With a long face and glowing eyes, the Caretaker now held all the notebooks in his gnarled hands. “Scary stories. Scary stories,” the Caretaker murmured in a voice that oozed danger. “All children love scary stories.”

“Those are m-m-mine,” Rafa stammered. His breath plumed white and his legs and hands felt numb from the cold. Still, he reached out for the notebooks angrily. “Give them to me.”

“Your whole life has been a scary story, Rafael Fuentes. And in darkness and pain, all scary stories end,” the Caretaker hissed. “Your story is mine now, and I’ve planned an ending for you.”

“No!” Rafa shouted defiantly, spotting another shadow stirring in the dark behind the Caretaker. “You don’t get to make up my ending. Only I do that.”

Just then, Rafa was lifted into the air. He wailed as an invisible hand clenched his throat. Rafa writhed in pain, kicking and wriggling to get free. The Caretaker was taking him toward the pond. “No,” Rafa groaned. He’d never see Brianna again. He’d never see his abuelos again. He squeezed out a short painful breath. He’d never see Nikki again.

Tears poured from Rafa’s eyes as a gust of cold air whipped past him. It carried with it a light tinkling of a bell that reminded Rafa of Christmas carols, windchimes, and mostly of Balam.

“Balam,” Rafa cried as the large cat locked eyes with him and charged.

Rafa closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact. When the large cat pounced, it was like a sledgehammer. Rafa dropped hard to the cold ground. Free from the Caretaker’s grasp, he clambered away. When he looked up, Balam had the Caretaker in his powerful jaws and was dragging him into the pond. Balam glanced over at Rafa as if to say, Get on with it!

Rafa scrambled to collect the notebooks from the ground as fast as he could. He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing, but instinctually he felt like he had to pile them in order. With his on top, he opened it to his story, hearing his grandma’s voice in his head, “Give it a hopeful ending.” Then he saw Brianna’s scribble at the top of the page.

Petrifying! Why is there no happy

ending? What happened to the brave

boy in the pond? Doesn’t he come

out to save the day?

Rafa took a deep breath and began. “The brave boy who jumped into the pond was not gone …” Rafa spoke aloud as his teeth chattered. “He was waiting for the right time to stop the Caretaker once and for all. He stepped out of the pond alone, but he wasn’t alone. He had his abuelos’ love and his sister’s trust. More important, he had hope,” Rafa continued, his voice strengthening as the story’s ending unfolded.

“Under the blood moon, the boy confronted the Caretaker, ‘You don’t get to keep Tessa’s story hidden. And you don’t get to decide our endings either.’ Just then, a mighty jaguar sprung out from the shadows, pouncing on the Caretaker. He dug his steely fangs into the Caretaker’s skull, ending the Caretaker once and for all. The jaguar flung the Caretaker into the pond and the Caretaker never returned to haunt the children of Grainsville Park ever again. And the boy returned to his family and friends. The end.”

There was a loud splash. At first, Rafa didn’t dare look, but then he couldn’t help himself. He looked up to see the Caretaker sinking to the bottom of the pond while Balam stood at the edge like one of Ms. Martin’s bronze statues.

“Balam,” Rafa called to him. “Is it really over?”

Balam padded over to him as the pond rippled and swirled, finally shooting up like a fountain and forming into funnel. As it twisted and climbed higher, it sucked the pond dry. From every direction, branches cracked and broke from the trees, feeding the funnel. The shoes were swept up, followed by the notebooks that flew out of Rafa’s hands. The pages fluttered into the funnel like a flock of black birds.

As the funnel grew more powerful, swallowing everything, Rafa hunkered down and covered his head with his hands. Next thing he knew, Balam crouched over him, digging his claws into the earth, and locking them in place against the wind that lashed at them like leather whips. When Balam started to rise from the force of the funnel, Rafa grabbed on to his front limbs and held him down.

“Hang on, Balam!” he yelled over the howling wind. From beneath the warmth of the jaguar, Rafa watched as the funnel spun higher until it ripped through the clouds like a skyscraper. Then with a spark against the dark sky, it was gone.

Balam stood up on all fours, allowing Rafa to sit up too. Together they watched the blood moon fade and the sun soar above the trees. In front of them, the pond transformed into a field of purple and violet flowers. The jaguar rubbed up against Rafa lovingly.

“Thank you, Balam,” Rafa said, throwing his arms around the jaguar and rubbing his face against its neck. “I think he’s finally gone.”

“Rafa!” Brianna yelled, waving alongside Cash, who came running out of the woods.

On wobbly legs, Rafa walked to them with Balam at his side. Brianna met him halfway and threw her arms around him.

“We thought we lost you!” she said. “You never came back out. We were so scared.”

Cash rushed up to give him a hug. “Where were you?”

“I don’t know, but the Caretaker is gone.”

Suddenly there was laughing from the edge of the woods, where Xavier and Tessa waited with three other children. Rafa realized that they must have been Aisha, Noah, and Isabel—the other kids who had written the Caretaker story. Xavier walked to him with a huge smile. “You did it.”

“Only with Balam’s help,” Rafa said.

“We’re leaving now,” Xavier said. “Thank you.” He began to walk away and then stopped. “Please tell my sister she doesn’t have to worry anymore. I’m going to be with our parents now.”

“I will,” Rafa said.

Balam padded alongside Xavier as if leaving too.

“Wait!” Rafa shouted, panicked. “Is Balam leaving with you?”

Xavier shook his head. “He wants to walk me out.”

“He’ll return though, right?”

“He always returns to family. It could be tomorrow. It could be five years. Cats take their time.”

Rafa put his hands on both sides of Balam’s head, hoping the jaguar wouldn’t wait five years. “Find your way home to us, Balam. We’ll be waiting.”

Brianna wiped her eyes and planted a kiss on the top of the jaguar’s head. Balam rejoined Xavier and walked with the children.

“What about our friends?” Rafa called out. “Are they okay?”

Tessa and Xavier turned back as the other children vanished. They waved once more. Rafa’s phone pinged.

Find them in the park

Your friends are waiting for you

A new story starts

“Does that mean what I think it means?” Cash asked, leaning in to read the message.

“I hope so,” Rafa said.

The three set off through the woods, exhausted but hopeful that their friends were safe. Closing in on camp, they heard familiar voices. They broke into a sprint. At the campground, all of their friends were busy cleaning up the mess around them.

“Jayden!” Rafa yelled, running toward him.

“Bro! Did you come to help us clean up?” Jayden said, gathering Rafa into a hug and lifting him up.

“What happened?” Rafa asked, spotting Nayeli and Cash’s uncle speaking to park rangers.

Jayden looked at him curiously. “I thought that’s why you were here. A tornado dropped down and tore up our campsite. Luckily no one was hurt. All of us ran. Last time I saw Brianna, she was with my sisters running into the woods. I’m so glad to see you, chica!” he said, pulling her up into a hug too.

“Brianna!” Nilda and Nora squealed, rushing over and pulling her into a group hug. Two other girls followed, nudging Rafa out of the way and clinging to Brianna. Rafa wasn’t sure, but he thought it looked like the same girls who had snubbed her at the bookstore.

“I’m glad you’re here. We’re all going to my house for pizza next. After what we’ve been through, pizza is in order! Hey, do you guys see the hot dogs up in the trees? Luckily, I saved the marshmallows! Another Saint Jayden miracle.”

Rafa and Cash followed Jayden as he handed them trash bags.

Cash nudged Rafa. “They don’t remember what really happened.”

Behind him, the girls were thanking Brianna repeatedly for saving them—something about running for cover in a ditch. Brianna looked confused, but she nodded along.

“Maybe it’s better this way,” Rafa said.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell another scary story again?”

Rafa let the question hang in the air for a few seconds as he picked up litter from the ground.

“I’m going to need a new notebook first.”

FIVE DAYS LATER, RAFA AND BRIANNA SAT AT THE top of the playground castle, staring into the woods.

“Why does Ms. Martin think Balam will show up today?” Brianna asked.

“Because we have his favorite treat,” Rafa answered, shaking a bag full of cat kibble. “Plus, she had a dream about him last night.”

Ms. Martin had been right about Balam the whole time. He was a protector, and he’d always return home. Xavier had said the same thing. Now Rafa was counting on it.

“I hope she’s right,” Brianna said softly.

Rafa threw an arm around her, grateful that she was safe. In the last few days, her memory of the horror in the woods had waned. She remembered Balam and that’s it. Cash remembered almost as much as Rafa, except that as the scratches on his legs faded, so did the memory of Furry Toe. The other campers, like Jayden, remembered running from a tornado. Only Rafa knew it hadn’t really been a tornado at all.

Yet with every hour that passed, Rafa felt details fading too. He couldn’t remember why the bench in the playground made him smile or how he lost his notebook of scary stories, but he knew Balam had become a jaguar and saved him. Rafa accepted that Brianna and the rest of them would never remember everything that happened. And that was okay. The main thing to remember was to never tell a scary story under a blood moon again—even if the Caretaker was gone for good this time.

“Any sign of Balam yet?” Jayden yelled from below as he and Cash pulled up on bikes.

They parked theirs next to Brianna and Rafa’s new bikes, which were gifts from Ms. Martin. Rafa had been visiting her every day while she recovered at home. Before all the details dwindled, he’d shared what happened in the woods. Once he was done, Ms. Martin gifted him a brand-new journal, which he placed under his mattress unopened for now.

“Negativo,” Rafa answered.

“Here, kitty kitty!” Cash yelled in a high-pitched voice, making all of them laugh.

After a few more minutes, Brianna let out a disappointed sigh. “Should we try after breakfast?”

Rafa nodded. “Maybe he needs more time.” He slid down the slide. Brianna followed. They joined their friends, exchanging fist bumps and hugs.

“How’s everything with your mom?” Jayden asked.

Brianna smiled from ear to ear. “We stayed up last night playing Uno and listening to old records. It was fun.”

“And you?” Cash probed, nudging Rafa.

Rafa shrugged. “She’s trying. She’s making a special breakfast today. You guys coming?”

Both of them nodded excitedly and quickly saddled their bikes.

As Rafa mounted his bike, he heard a light chime. From out of the dark shade of the trees, a small tan-and-black cat wearing a gold collar with a bell stepped into the sun.

“Balam!” Brianna exclaimed joyfully. She ran and snatched the cat up, immediately snuggling him close. Rafa wrapped him in his hoodie and put him in the basket of Brianna’s bike. They rode home overjoyed as Balam purred.

When they arrived at the house, the sweet aroma of pancakes wafted from the kitchen and onto the porch. Brianna beamed her larger-than-life smile at her brother.

“Do you smell them, Rafa?”

“Mom made blueberry pancakes?”

Brianna’s eyes widened with surprise. “You called her Mom.”

Rafa shrugged and smiled. “I’m working on my happy endings.”

Since I was a kid, I’ve loved reading scary stories. Having the chance to write one of my own is a dream come true and The Cursed Moon wouldn’t have been possible without the guidance of some very talented individuals. Special thanks to my editor, Anna Bloom, and everyone at Scholastic for seeing the potential in this story and trusting me to try something new. My admiration to artist Melissa Castillo for the wickedly spooky cover art.

Muchas gracias to my agent, Adriana Dominguez, and everyone at Aevitas Creative Management. I’m grateful to have you in my corner. My appreciation to the Pancake Combo squad for providing thoughtful critique on the early drafts: Lisa Cindrich, Vicki Dixon, Natasha Hanova, and Shannon Thompson. My undying gratitude to my young editors who read the first nine chapters and provided helpful feedback and encouragement: Adriana, Andrew, Lia, Roman, Rosie.

Thanks to my parents and my siblings for being there when I needed laughs and a plate of chicken tacos: Rio, Lorenzo, and Enrique. Big hug to all my former teachers, classmates, fellow book worms, and amigas who encouraged me to keep writing.

Big cuddles to all the jaguars protecting children. Extra thanks to all the abuelos who provide a safe, loving home to their grandchildren.

A special acknowledgment to my husband for giving me love and space to write my heart out.

Finally, thanks to you, dear readers and book lovers, for taking time to read these acknowledgments. I hope you enjoy this book and keep discovering scary and not-so-scary books to read.

Angela Cervantes is the award-winning author of popular novels Lety Out Loud, which was a 2020 Pura Belpré Honor Book; Me, Frida, and the Secret of the Peacock Ring; Gaby, Lost and Found; and Allie, First at Last. In addition to her original novels, Angela authored the junior novelization for Disney/Pixar’s animated film Coco and Disney’s animated film Encanto. Angela grew up in Topeka, Kansas, where she enjoyed telling scary stories to her friends. She continues to live and write from her home in Kansas. When she’s not writing, Angela enjoys reading, running, gazing up at clouds, and taking advantage of Taco Tuesdays everywhere she goes. To learn more about Angela and her books, visit her online at angelacervantes.com.

Gaby, Lost and Found

Allie, First at Last

Me, Frida, and the Secret of the Peacock Ring

Lety Out Loud

Copyright © 2023 by Angela Cervantes

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available

First edition, September 2023

Cover art © 2023 by Melissa Castillo

Cover design by Cassy Price

e-ISBN 978-1-338-81403-3

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