Alex felt silly for it, but she tucked in close behind him and kept her free hand balled up in the back of Richard's coat, the other still holding her phone out to record...whatever was about to happen.

The steps down the stairs were steady and cautious, and Brooklyn crowded in even tighter under the bed, trying to make herself as small as possible. Grown-ups lied a lot...but lies felt like bee stings, sharp and then numb. This felt like holding cold things until it made your fingers ache--they were scared and they were worried and they weren't lying. They didn't want to hurt her.

Cautiously, Brooklyn edged her way to the end of the bed and peeked around the bedpost--then flinched and darted back when the light of the flashlight fell on her, though it was enough of a glance for them to see one hazel green eye, a smudged face, and a tangle of light brown hair.

"Oh my God," the lady breathed softly--less scared coming off of her and more shock, like pops of grease when you fry bacon.