I brought my head back in, pulled down the screen and the window, and locked it. I gazed at the woods beyond. We had no neighbor on this side. No one would have seen who it was.

A shiver coursed through me. The day Kayla died, Mr. Tucker swore up and down that he hadn't seen anyone else come in or out of the house. And it made sense - from his viewpoint he could see both our front and side door. But he couldn't see this side. Someone could have snuck in and out by climbing the trellis, and Mr. Tucker never would have seen them. In fact, if that was how the killer got in and out of the house that day, there was a good chance that it was that same person who'd done it now.

The killer had just been in my house.

Sometimes I think no one loves me. Not my friends. Not 28. Not even 1 and 2. Not really.

I think the only reason 1 and 2 even had a kid was because a baby was the "in" accessory among their friends at the time. They don't want to be with me much and granted I'm not exactly a ray of sunshine around the house. But maybe they're the reason why.

If I'm sad, they don't ask me what's wrong. They avoid me. They only want to talk when I have good news to share.

If I died today, they probably wouldn't even care. It would just be an excuse for 1 to buy a new Donna Karan black suit.

I wonder what would happen if I just disappeared.

Later that night, Marie plodded into the kitchen, dressed in her scrubs, a coffee mug in her hand. The bags under her eyes were darker than normal, and she still had a full night of work ahead of her. She was in one of her moods, probably exacerbated by the fact that Dad wasn't coming home until Sunday and that I'd forgotten to put in the lasagna.

As if I didn't have enough to worry about - like a killer breaking into our house this afternoon. But if I told her about that, she'd ask me for proof. And, of course, I had none. Nothing was broken or stolen. She'd call me a liar again and nothing would come from it but more fighting.

She brought her coffee to the table and sank into a chair. "Guess I'll be working the overnight shift on an empty stomach tonight," she said groggily.

It took all my willpower not to roll my eyes. Yeah, I hadn't had a chance to put the lasagna in the oven before she and Colby returned. But she could make herself a sandwich before she had to go. Plus, I hear hospitals have these things called cafeterias and vending machines. I didn't say any of that, though. I just quietly sat and pretended to do my homework. The sounds of SpongeBob drifted in from the living room.

"You know what Colby's kindergarten teacher said today?" Marie said bitterly.

I shook my head no.

"She said he seems tired during the day and accused me of not putting him to bed early enough. Would you believe that? That boy goes to bed plenty early." Marie rubbed her face. "The only one around here not getting enough sleep is me."

Marie was perpetually tired, no doubt about that. And - despite the defensive Mom act she was pulling right now - I knew she was worried about Colby. I could see it in her eyes.

I thought about giving honesty a second go-around. Twisting a pencil in my lap, I said, "He goes to bed early, but he doesn't always stay asleep." I paused, giving myself one last chance to back out, and decided to go for it. "He's scared sometimes -"

She cut me off. "Don't even start with that ghost nonsense again, Jade." She shot me a look. "I don't want to hear it."

I slammed my textbook closed and stood up. "Fine." And added silently, Keep your head in the sand.

Marie pulled her hair back with an elastic band and moved on, quickly pushing aside my attempt at truth. "I need you to babysit Sat.u.r.day night. The other nurses invited me out."

"I can't," I tossed over my shoulder. "I have plans."

"You'll just have to change them to Friday night. This is the first time they've asked me to come out, and I could really use some friends in this area."

"Well, I have to make new friends, too." Frustration filled my voice. "And I already babysit at least three nights a week."

Anger leaked into my voice. I was sick of being taken for granted. I didn't mind taking care of Colby. I loved that kid so much I'd rearrange the night sky if he wanted me to. And I knew we didn't have the kind of money most families in this town had, so I had no problem pitching in. But it would be nice to be thanked now and then. After all, I was enrolled in Overachiever High and was the sole person responsible for getting rid of a vengeful ghost.

Marie snapped, "I'm sorry your half brother is such a burden to you."

The words were like a sucker punch. My mouth opened and closed, shocked at the venom leveled at me. Marie paled, knowing instantly she'd gone too far. She probably wished she could take the words back, but they were out there, hanging in the air between us. No one had ever referred to Colby as my half brother before. I despised the word. It was technically true, but the insinuation was that we weren't fully connected.

"He is not a burden to me," I seethed. "I love him more than anything. If you even knew what I was doing for him ..."

"Are you guys fighting?"

Both of our heads turned to the doorway. Colby stood wide-eyed, his thumb in his mouth. He hadn't sucked his thumb in three years.

I rushed over to him. "No, it's okay."

He pulled his thumb out. "I heard you."

"It was just a little disagreement." I held his tiny hand in mine. "Want to go upstairs and I'll read you a story before dinner's done?"

He looked at Marie, who must have nodded some form of encouragement over my shoulder. "Okay."

I threatened to tickle him on the way up the stairs, and he giggled as he climbed them. When we reached the landing, I said, "What book do you want?"

He hesitated, staring at his open door. "Can we read in your room instead?"

"Sure, buddy. Why?"

He peeked down the staircase, presumably to make sure Marie wasn't in hearing distance. "The girl was in my room again last night," he whispered. "She was just watching me. Like she wanted something. She didn't even try to talk like she usually does. Then she left. It really scared me, Jade."

I dropped to my knees beside him so I could look him straight in the eye. "It's going to be okay, Colby. I'm working on a way to make her go away. Don't worry."

"Are you sure?"

The little tremble of fear in his voice made my heart ache. Made me hate Kayla for messing with him. And hate Marie for not believing me. But Colby didn't need my anger right now. He needed confidence.

I cracked a smile and did my best Darth Vader voice. "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

Colby cackled like he always did. My Darth Vader was a sure thing.

"Seriously, buddy. I'll protect you. You have nothing to worry about."

I pulled him into a tight hug and rubbed his head. He still had that soft, fine hair. It smelled of baby shampoo and innocence.

I would protect him. Whatever it took.

Friday night I put on jeans and a red T-shirt and tossed a hoodie over it. Comfy and not s.e.xy in the least, so Kane wouldn't get mixed messages. I slid a rosy shade of lipstick on and used cover-up on my chin (it always breaks out when I'm stressed). Satisfied, I nodded at myself in the mirror, grabbed my phone and car keys, and left for my non-date.

When I'd first asked Kane to hang out Friday night instead of Sat.u.r.day, he was a little reluctant and said that he'd planned on going to the football game. But that just happened to be perfect. Tons of people were going, so I'd get to do some research on Kayla and also keep my promise to Donovan about staying in public. I convinced Kane that going to a high school football game was just what I wanted to do, and we made plans to meet there.

I'd sent Alexa a text, inviting her along, thinking the more the merrier. But she replied that she'd rather mentally count prime numbers to infinity, which I think was her way of saying she'd rather watch paint dry than go to a football game.

Kane was waiting for me in the parking lot as planned. He patted his buddies on their backs and shouted a "see you in there" while he walked over to me.

"Hey," I said. "So are we going to win tonight or what?" I smiled awkwardly, hoping my sudden surge of school spirit seemed legit.

But Kane looked as uneasy as I did.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "It's just ... meeting at a high school football game isn't really what I had in mind for our second date. I wanted to pick you up and take you out to dinner somewhere nice."

Second date? I almost laughed, thinking he was joking again, but he was watching me intently, waiting for my reaction. He was serious. This wasn't just hanging out to him. He really thought it was a date. That was why he'd been reluctant before.

I panicked, thinking fast. If I shot him down, hurt his feelings, the night would end now. I wouldn't get to spend hours with Kayla's friends, listening to gossip, figuring things out. I needed to be here tonight.

Making a last-minute decision, I grinned and playfully slapped his arm, "Don't be silly. We'll have just as much fun here as we would at a fancy place. That stuff doesn't matter to me."

"It matters to some girls," he said with a bitterness in his voice that made me pause.

I had seen all the girls at school throw themselves at him. His lack of money clearly didn't matter to them. But it had obviously mattered to someone. I ventured a guess. "Is that why Kayla wouldn't go out with you?"

He looked back up, meeting my gaze. "She said it was because our friendship mattered too much, but I knew the real reason was because she loved nice things and I couldn't come through in that department."

Materialistic wench, I thought. "Well, I'm not Kayla. And I think it's a great night for football." I grabbed his hand and gave it a little squeeze, but let go quickly, not wanting him to read too much into it.

It was enough to convince him, though. His demeanor lightened. "All right, let's go in before there are no seats left."

"It fills up?" I said, surprised.

"Not most weekends, but this is the biggest game of the year. We're playing Alton." At my blank expression he added, "Our rival. Everyone shows up for this game."

As students, we got in free, but Kane caved to the 50-50 raffle pressure and bought some tickets. We got our hands stamped, and Kane steered me through the crowd toward the bleachers. He wasn't kidding. The place was packed. We slowly climbed the metal stairs, looking for a place to sit. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Kane placed his hand on my shoulder in a possessive move. I was surprised, until I saw him flash a look at someone.

Donovan sat on the bleachers with a couple of his friends. They'd probably dragged him here, and he looked miserable enough to begin with. But when he saw Kane and me - together - the boredom drained from his features. He turned away before I could see what expression replaced it.

Oh no. Did he think I'd lied to him and made plans with Kane for two nights? I wanted him to look back, so I could send him some sort of message with my eyes. But he didn't.

"Woodward! Over here!"

A few hands waved from the sea of red and black, and as we got closer I recognized the faces. The popular crowd. Kayla's crew. Exactly where I needed to be sitting. The guys moved over to make room for us.

From the row in front of us, Madison turned around and said, "Faye was sitting there. Keep room." But no one paid attention to her. The team had jogged onto the field, and the bleachers erupted in a loud roar of cheers.

After the game preliminaries were done, the crowd settled down a bit. As I saw the adults sit back down, my knees started to bend, but then I realized the student section - everyone around me - remained standing. Guess we stand the whole game? I didn't know. I'd never gone to games back home.

After the first play, the guy to my left pushed into me with a "move over." Our row was full enough but apparently someone had insisted on squeezing in on the end. I was shoved up against Kane, who didn't seem to mind.

"Faye's back," Madison said, pointing to the end of the row.

Gulp.

I turned my head, expecting to see her standing there, arms folded, foot tapping, glaring at me. But she wasn't. Her eyes didn't even go to mine. They stayed on Kane, longingly. Then she turned away, shoulders slumped forward. Her whole posture reeked of despair. This "second date" of ours seems to have been the nail in her coffin of hope.

A lump formed in my throat. I owed that girl nothing, but still. I don't like to hurt people and pain was evident on her face. I wanted to dart over there and whisper in her ear, "This isn't real. I don't want him." But I couldn't trust her any more than I could trust anyone else in this town.

"Here we go twelve!" Kane yelled through cupped hands.

I leaned toward him. "Who's twelve?"

He pointed toward a big guy on the field. "He's on the team. The lacrosse team."

"Oh! I didn't know you could be on both teams."

"Sure. Lacrosse is a spring sport. A few guys from the team play football in the fall."

"Why don't you?" I asked over the cacophony of the marching band.

"I don't want to spread myself too thin. Academics take a lot of my time and I try to keep focused on lacrosse. I play in an indoor league during the winter. And I make sure I practice every day in the fall. Hit the wall for twenty minutes."

I had no idea what "hit the wall" meant, but didn't want to extend the sports conversation too long by asking. I know nothing about sports, especially football. Sitting there on a chilly Friday night was usually the last thing I'd want to do. I only fit in by copying what everyone else did. I groaned when they groaned, clapped when they clapped, and stood and exchanged high fives when we got a touchdown. And I didn't even erroneously call it a "great goal." Good for me.

By halftime, I was ready to stretch my legs, mingle, and eavesdrop. You know, detective work.

"I'm going to head to the concession stand," Kane said. "You want anything?"

My teeth were chattering and I would have loved a hot chocolate, but didn't want him to get it and come looking for me right away. "Not yet," I said. "Thanks, though." Most girls seemed to be walking toward the main building. "I'm going to head inside for the bathroom," I added.

The metal stairs vibrated as a bunch of us descended at once. The smells of popcorn and hot dogs had my stomach growling, but I ignored my hunger. I had work to do. I kept my ears open while I walked through the crowd. I hoped to get involved in some conversations, try to get people to tell me more about Kayla like they had the night of my party.

I was about to join the line for the girls' room when a shadow farther down the hall waved to me - from the doorway to the art room. I sped down the hall past six other rooms. The door was cracked open, but it was dark inside. I pushed the door open, let my eyes adjust, and smiled. Donovan straddled a chair that had been spun around. His arms were draped over the back, his chin resting on his clasped hands. When he saw me, he stood in one swift motion.

"You came," he said.

I rushed up to him. I knew what I'd said in school about keeping us quiet, but we were alone here in this darkened room, and I couldn't hold back. I threw my arms around his neck, rose up on my tiptoes, and pulled his face to mine, kissing him. He responded instantly, his tender kiss quickly turning hotter. His hands tightened on my waist, drawing me closer to him.

I wanted to stay like this, in this room, all night, but knew we couldn't. I pulled back, and we both took the moment to catch our breaths. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on mine and whispered, "I hate seeing you with him."

"I had to switch nights for the date. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"I figured it was something like that."

I had so much to tell him - about Kayla's parents, the intruder, but we didn't have time. "Can you come over tomorrow? I'll fill you in on everything."

"Absolutely. In the meantime ... please be careful."

"I will. I promise." I paused, hating what I had to say next. "I need to get back."

"After one more kiss," he breathed and our lips joined again. But only for a moment.

Because I heard a click.

Donovan froze, his biceps hardening under my hands. I turned and squinted at the bright light of the hallway. In my rush to touch him, I'd left the door open behind me. No one stood in the doorway now, but that noise had been familiar and distinct. The kind of noise a phone makes - when it's taking a picture.

Donovan dismissed the noise as the click of the wall clock, but I'd been so sure it was the whir and snap of a camera phone. Or maybe I was getting paranoid. That wasn't too hard to do when your house is haunted and you're surrounded by murder suspects.