“You can barely find it,” Emily remarked. Her eyes were suddenly bright. “Ali might not be ballsy enough to stay in the main house. But what about here?”
The prickly feeling on Hanna’s skin had intensified. This did feel like somewhere Ali might hide. She turned toward the sound coming from the woods again. Someone could be in there, watching them as they discovered this.
Before anyone could stop her, Emily leapt up the stairs and peered into a small part of the window that wasn’t covered in cardboard. “I can’t see anything,” she said. She moved to the door and tried the knob.
“Em, don’t!” Aria screeched, covering her eyes. Hanna leapt forward to grab her hand.
But Emily shrugged Hanna off and jiggled the knob roughly. It turned, and the door swung open into the room. Hanna winced and jolted back, afraid an explosion would go off. Or, even worse, Ali would appear.
But there was only silence.
Everyone waited a beat. Spencer coughed. Aria peeked between her fingers. Hanna gazed into the dark space, unable to make out anything.
Emily squared her shoulders. “I’m going in.”
Spencer groaned and scampered behind her. Aria was next. Hanna scrambled up the porch steps, definitely not hanging outside alone. As she crossed the threshold, the wind shifted, wafting a familiar smell into her nostrils. Her heart stopped. Aria turned around and stared at her. Her eyes were wide, too.
“Vanilla,” Aria whispered.
“See?” Emily hissed.
Emily pulled a flashlight out of her backpack and flicked it on. Hanna cringed again, terrified at what they might see, but the room was mostly empty. Huge silken spiderwebs spanned the corners, many of them peppered with trapped, dead insects. At the far end of the room stood a small counter, a sink, and a rusted refrigerator whose smell Hanna could only imagine. A small table sat by the counter, its matching chair missing a leg. Underneath the table was a pile of dead leaves. Another room shot off to the left, and there was a narrow door at the right. Stairs led to a second level.
No one moved except for Emily, who rushed over to the counter and opened the single cabinet and drawer. Both of them stuck a little, probably warped shut. Then she opened the fridge—empty—and felt around the windowsills and tried the water tap—it didn’t work. Hanna peeked in the second room, using her phone as a light. Inside was nothing but an old bureau. She knew she should look in the drawers, but she was too scared. We should leave, a voice kept hammering inside her. This isn’t right.
Emily opened the narrow door and gagged; a filthy toilet and a rusted sink stood behind it. After opening the single cabinet, she shut the door again and darted up the stairs. Hanna heard her footsteps; before anyone could follow her, she was back down. She held something between her fingers. “Look.”
She shone the flashlight on a plastic wrapper. It was a bag of Rold Gold pretzels. “Remember how Ali ate these the day of the DiLaurentises’ press conference?” Emily asked excitedly, almost hysterically. “You know, when they announced that Ali had a twin?”
Hanna would never forget that bizarre day. Courtney—really Ali—had appeared on a stage outside the DiLaurentises’ new house, and the family had explained that they’d brought Courtney home from the hospital to help her heal. Lies, all lies. If only they hadn’t set her free. None of this would have happened.
After the press asked questions, Ali summoned the others inside—it had been the beginning of her plot to win them over, make them think she was their old friend. They’d sat around the kitchen table, and Ali had eaten pretzel after pretzel, her crunches the only sound in the room. I promise I won’t bite, she’d said with a spooky, knowing smile on her face.
Now Aria cocked her head. “A lot of people like pretzels, though. And Rold Gold is a common brand.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure what that proves,” Spencer said softly. “It probably doesn’t have any fingerprints on it.”
Emily glowered at all of them. “Don’t tell me she wasn’t here. I know you all smell the vanilla.”
“We do,” Hanna said, surprised by Emily’s aggressive tone. “But we can’t go to the cops with this. It’s not enough.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” Emily shrieked, her eyes wild. “Wait for her to come back? Because I will. I’ll sleep on this floor to make sure I catch her.”
“Em.” Spencer placed her hand on Emily’s shoulder. Emily was suddenly shaking. “You can’t do that. You have to calm down.”
Aria propped her hands on her hips and looked around. “Maybe we can watch this place somehow—without us getting hurt.”
Hanna didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”
Emily’s face lit up. “What about video surveillance?”
“That could work,” Spencer said cautiously. “My stepfather has cameras on all of his model homes. You can access them remotely, even on an iPad.”
Emily nodded hurriedly. “We could plant some here. Today.”
Spencer glanced at the others. Hanna wanted to say no—that would mean getting all the gear and then coming back here—but she feared what Emily would do if they didn’t agree. Sleep in the woods, maybe. Sit on the porch all night, waiting for Ali.
“I guess so,” Spencer said. She pulled out her phone. “I think Best Buy sells whole kits of stuff that’s easy to install.”
“And then . . . what? We watch from afar?” Aria asked.
“That’s right,” Spencer said. “We could take shifts, each of us watching the house at different times. If we see anything, we go to the police.”