Chapter 2

"We brought everything for dinner," Mom announced, her voice echoing in the silent house. She walked past me toward the kitchen, her movements jerky, like a puppet.

Leo followed her, setting the bags on the counter with a thud.

I couldn't speak. I just stood there, caught between a desperate, aching need to believe and the cold, hard fact that they were dead. I watched them unpack the groceries: a turkey, potatoes, a can of cranberry sauce. It was all so normal, so terribly wrong.

"Aren't you going to give your mother a hug?" Mom asked, turning to face me.

I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around her. It was like hugging a block of ice. There was no warmth, no life, just a deep, penetrating cold that made my teeth chatter. She stiffened and pulled away almost immediately.

"I need to get the turkey in the oven," she said, avoiding my eyes.

I was left alone with Leo in the living room. He was walking strangely, his neck held at a rigid angle and he was on his tiptoes, like he was trying not to make a sound. It looked painful.

"Leo, what's wrong with your neck? Why are you walking like that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He turned to me, and his face changed. It twisted into something menacing, something I had never seen before. He took a step toward me, his strange, tiptoe gait making him seem taller, more threatening.

"Leo, stop it, you're scaring me."

He kept coming.

"Leo!" Mom's voice was sharp from the kitchen. She appeared in the doorway, her face a mask of anger. "What are you doing?"

She grabbed his arm and yanked him back into the kitchen. I could hear them whispering, their voices urgent and harsh.

"Don't forget why we're doing this! She can't find out!"

I backed away, my hand covering my mouth. Find out what? A cold dread began to bloom in my chest. This wasn't a miracle. This was a nightmare.