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With a nod, he shuffles over to her, rubbing his eyes again.

A cold sensation spreads across my chest, and I can’t honestly say what I’ll do, if I find someone standing in that room. I’m torn between believing the kid, and wondering if it was just a dream. After all, the visuals I have throughout the day aren’t actually real. If I called the police every time I saw the boogeyman with a white skull mask, I’d make their list of crazies who cried wolf. Slow and careful, I make my way down the corridor.

The first bedroom is small and decorated in planets and rockets, and must belong to Justin. An initial sweep shows nothing, so I keep on toward the second room. Opening the door reveals one of the messier rooms in the house, where clothes lay scattered on the floor and bed, makeup spread out on a vanity, and shoes tossed about the room. But no man in a mask.

Hand trembling over the knife’s hilt, I move on to the final room, situated toward the end of the house. Noting, as I approach, that the door is cracked open. The bedroom itself, however, is clean and orderly. Brie’s room, I’m guessing. No man in a mask here, either.

I cross the room to close and secure the door, but something catches my eye, and on closer inspection, I notice small bits of dirt left on the hardwood. Internal alarms blare inside my head, eyes sweeping over the room for other clues.

Back down the hallway, I slip into Justin’s room again, and that’s when I find an object on his nightstand.

“Justin!” I call out for him, inching closer to what appears to be white fragments of bone and a small chicken foot, strung over a short stretch of thread. Dread settles into the pit of my stomach. The distant sound of clattering echoes inside my head, and I stumble backward, dropping the bones onto the nightstand.

The moment Justin appears in the doorway, I hold the object up for him to see. “Does this belong to you?”

Hands crossed in front of him, fidgeting, he shakes his head.

Resting her hand on his shoulder, Brie stands behind him, and on seeing the object, she crosses the room, swiping it out of my hand. “What is this?”

“Brie, is there somewhere else you can stay tonight? I don’t think it’s safe here. And I think you should report this to the police.”

Scoffing, she shakes her head. “Like I reported my sister? First thing they asked was if she was using again.”

“This is different. A man broke into your house. Into Justin’s bedroom.”

Twisting the object around, she frowns and turns back to her nephew. “Justin, did you make this?”

“No, Tante Brie. I didn’.”

“You have to be honest, hear? No lying, or Ton Ton will …” Lips tight, she glances back at me. “No lying, okay?”

“I didn’t. Da tataille weft it.”

The longer I stare down at it, the stronger the urge I have to get the hell out of here. I shove the knife back into my boot. “We need to go. Now.”

Ringing from the other room has both of us jumping, and Brie darts past her nephew toward the kitchen.

I follow after her, taking Justin by the hand, and find her standing in the kitchen with the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Luc. Yeah, she’s still here, is everything okay? You sound upset.” Frowning, she shakes her head and gathers up her purse. She throws back one of the kitchen drawers, pulls out an envelope, and when she holds it up, I spot a small stack of cash tucked within, before she shoves it into her purse. “No, we have to leave. Someone broke into my house. We’re not sticking around here.” From a hook on the wall, she swipes up a key that she stuffs into her pocket, but pauses in her frantic packing. Covering the receiver with her palm, she lowers the phone from her mouth. “He wants to pick you up,” she whispers, and snaps the phone back in place, her frown deepening. “You think that’s a good idea? I mean, there’s a lot of folks there that might see her.”

Buzzing past me, she disappears into Justin’s room, her voice quieter, broken by whatever task she’s doing. When she finally returns, a stack of clothes sits tucked under her arm, and she jerks her head toward the front door, taking Justin by the hand. “I don’t know, Luc. I’ll ask her.”

What’s going on? I mouth, the urgency riding me to flee this house.

“He wants to meet up at the carnival in town. It’s a Feast of the Dead celebration. Everyone wears a mask, so you wouldn’t be seen. It’s a big crowd, but mostly tourists.”

My stomach twists at the thought. For all the effort Thierry’s put into keeping me unseen, a crowd is the last place I should be. “Isn’t there somewhere quieter we can meet up?”

“Can we meet at the old pier, instead?” The three of us hustle out the door, and with the phone tucked at her ear, Brie lifts Justin up into her arms, practically running toward the car. “You get that, Luc? How ‘bout the old pier?”

Trailing behind her, I swipe up a pair of white socks that she drops along the way, along with the shorts that slips from beneath her arm.

Rounding the small sedan parked in the drive toward the passenger side, she pauses, setting Justin back down. “Luc? Hello?” Pulling the phone from her ear, she stares down at it, then lifts it again. “Luc? Are you there? Dammit!”

She opens the door and tosses the clothes into the backseat, before ushering Justin inside. The two of us pile in, and I toss the socks and shorts I gathered onto the rest of the pile.

She dials a number on her phone again and waits.