The Old Willis Place by Mary Downing Hahn

Author:Mary Downing Hahn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Chapter 11

I ran down the steps after Lissa. In a panic, I jerked her hand away from the knob. "Don't open that door!"

"I want to see where she died." Lissa reached for the knob again. Miss Lilian's hat hid her face, but her voice was shrill with excitement. The rustling sounds grew louder, as if someone in a silk dress was crossing the room. The floor creaked, and the air turned so cold my teeth chattered.

As clearly as if she was standing beside me, I heard Miss Lilian's voice in my ear. "Get out of the girl's way, Diana. Let her open the door."

Instead of obeying the old woman, I pressed my back against the door and pushed Lissa away with all my strength. She staggered backward and crashed against the wall.

"What's wrong with you?" Lissa rubbed her arm and winced as if I'd hurt her. "Are you nuts?"

"Just stay away from the door. If you open it, she'll get out!"

"What are you talking about? Who'll get out?"

In my ear, Miss Lilian's cold voice froze the very air between us. "Let the girl open the door. You and I have business to settle, miss."

"Please, Lissa, please!" I flung myself at her. "I beg you, we have to get out of here."

But Lissa evaded me and reached for the knob. "I have to open the door," she cried. "I have to!"

"That's right," Miss Lilian hissed, "she must open the door. She must, she must."

Despite my efforts, Lissa managed to turn the knob. The door swung open and slammed against the wall with a loud bang. Out poured a blast of cold air. It spun past us like a small cyclone of ice, taking the flowered hat with it, and whirled up the stairs, leaving us frozen speechless in the parlor doorway.

Suddenly, there she was, Miss Lilian herself, peering down at Lissa and me from the top of the stairs. She was just as I remembered—tall and gaunt, bent with arthritis, wrathful, hateful. Uncombed hair framed her pale face in thorny white brambles. Clutching her hat, she leaned over the railing and directed her gaze at me. "You! You!"

She stood there, her mouth moving as if she wanted to say more but could find no words. "You," she whispered. "You and your brother. Just wait!"

With a wail of fury, she turned and fled. Her gray silk dress rustled. Her footsteps clicked the way they always had. Then her bedroom door slammed shut, and she was gone.

In the sudden silence, I collapsed on the steps, weak with fear. Miss Lilian was free. Free to pursue Georgie and me, free to hurt us again and again. With her hunting us, we weren't safe anywhere on the farm. And we couldn't leave.

I glanced at Lissa. What had she done? I wanted to scream at her, to blame everything on her, but she sagged against the wall as if she'd never move again, her face colorless, her eyes unfocused. While I watched, she drew in her breath, opened her mouth, and began to scream.

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