Chapter nine
1024 Words
LILAH
Avery stared at the name.
LILAH.
For several seconds, she forgot about the locked bedroom door.
She forgot about Claire.
She forgot about the seven knocks.
All she could see was that name.
Lilah.
The seventh desk in Room 7 had belonged to someone.
Someone who wasn't Avery.
Someone who wasn't Evelyn.
Someone who had been deliberately erased.
Avery brought the photograph closer to her face.
The seven children were sitting in a perfect line.
Daniel.
Sophie.
Lucas.
Maya.
An unnamed child.
Evelyn.
Lilah.
Avery's eyes widened.
“Evelyn wasn't one of the children.”
She looked again.
Her mother wasn't sitting at a desk.
Evelyn was standing at the front of the classroom.
That meant the photograph wasn't showing seven missing children.
It was showing six children and Evelyn.
But Room 7 had seven desks.
Avery's mind raced.
There had always been seven.
So where was the seventh child?
She looked at the photograph again.
Lilah was standing beside Evelyn.
Not sitting.
And unlike the others, Lilah wasn't looking at the camera.
She was looking directly at Evelyn.
As though she was waiting for her to say something.
Avery turned the photograph over.
There was writing.
Only four words.
SHE REMEMBERED EVERYTHING.
Avery swallowed.
“Who?”
The lights flickered.
She stepped backward.
“Lilah?”
The room remained silent.
Then something slid underneath the bedroom door.
Avery froze.
A folded piece of paper.
She stared at it.
Slowly, she walked over and picked it up.
The handwriting looked different from the messages on her phone.
Messier.
Almost childlike.
She unfolded it.
DON'T SAY HER NAME THREE TIMES.
Avery looked at the name on the photograph.
Lilah.
One time.
She suddenly felt ridiculous.
She was standing alone in an old bedroom, afraid of saying the name of a girl who might not even exist.
Then she heard a whisper.
“Lilah.”
Avery's head snapped toward the door.
She hadn't said it.
At least, she didn't think she had.
The whisper came again.
“Lilah.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Avery looked at the paper.
DON'T SAY HER NAME THREE TIMES.
She backed away from the door.
Then—
“Lilah.”
Three times.
Avery's heart pounded.
Nothing happened.
She waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Twenty.
Nothing.
She released the breath she'd been holding.
“That's it?”
A soft knock came from inside the wardrobe.
Avery turned.
Another knock.
She didn't move.
A third.
The wardrobe door slowly opened.
Only a few inches.
Avery stared into the darkness between the doors.
Something was hanging inside.
A piece of red fabric.
She stepped closer.
Then she saw a hand-written number stitched into it.
7.
Avery reached toward it.
Her fingers had barely touched the fabric when her phone rang.
She jumped.
The screen showed an unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Static.
“Who is this?”
Nothing.
Then a young girl's voice whispered:
“You shouldn't have said my name.”
Avery's heart stopped.
“Lilah?”
The call ended.
Avery immediately called back.
The number didn't exist.
She looked at the wardrobe.
The red fabric was gone.
In its place was a small wooden box.
Avery recognized it.
The same kind of box she'd found in Room 7.
She pulled it out.
There was writing across the lid.
FOR THE GIRL WHO WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO FIND ME.
Avery opened it.
Inside was a cassette.
And beneath the cassette was a tiny silver bracelet.
Engraved on it was one word.
LILAH.
Avery picked up the cassette.
A label was stuck across the front.
RECORDING 07 — EVELYN
Her mother's voice.
Again.
Avery found an old cassette player on Claire's desk.
She hadn't noticed it before.
She inserted the tape.
The machine clicked.
Static filled the room.
Then Evelyn spoke.
Her voice sounded younger than on the previous recording.
“October 14th. 2009.”
Avery leaned closer.
“I don't know how much time we have left.”
A pause.
“Claire says we should stop.”
Avery's eyes widened.
“She's afraid of Lilah.”
The recording crackled.
“She thinks Lilah remembers what happened.”
Avery whispered, “What happened?”
Evelyn continued.
“The children were not taken.”
Avery stopped breathing.
“They were brought here.”
A long silence followed.
Then Evelyn said:
“And I made the mistake of bringing Lilah back.”
The recording suddenly stopped.
Avery stared at the cassette player.
“No.”
She pressed play.
Nothing.
She rewound it.
The tape played again.
Same words.
Same ending.
She tried fast-forwarding.
There was nothing after it.
Avery looked at the photograph.
Something had changed.
Lilah was no longer standing beside Evelyn.
In the photograph, the seventh child was now sitting at the seventh desk.
Avery dropped the picture.
She stepped backward.
“No…”
The bedroom door suddenly unlocked.
Avery looked toward it.
Slowly, the handle turned.
She grabbed the black box and ran.
The door opened behind her.
She raced into the hallway.
Nobody was there.
Then she heard footsteps downstairs.
Avery hurried down the stairs.
“Claire?”
Silence.
She reached the front door.
It opened easily.
Cold air rushed inside.
Avery stepped onto the porch.
Then she saw someone standing across the street.
A girl.
About her age.
Dark hair.
Pale face.
A school uniform.
Avery couldn't see her clearly.
The girl raised one hand.
There was something hanging from her wrist.
A silver bracelet.
Avery looked down at the bracelet in her hand.
The girl across the street smiled.
Then she disappeared.
Not walked away.
Not ran.
Just—
gone.
Avery stood frozen.
Her phone vibrated.
One message.
YOU SAW HER.
Another followed.
NOW ASK YOUR MOTHER WHY LILAH WAS AFRAID OF HER.
Avery stared at the screen.
Then a final message appeared.
AND DON'T GO BACK TO ROOM 7 ALONE.
Avery looked toward the dark road.
For the first time, she realized something.
Someone wasn't trying to keep her away from Room 7.
Someone was trying to make sure she went back.
And whoever it was…
knew exactly what she would find there.
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