Page 98 of Haunting the Deep

“Sam, wait!” Dillon calls after me, but I don’t stop.

I speed-walk right past them.

“What the hell happened back there?” Alice asks, keeping pace with me.

I get in the Jeep and they follow. “They know about Vivian. Niki knows. Which means Jaxon told her.” My voice catches on his name.

“Shit!” Alice says, and hits the wheel with the palm of her hand.

“How could he do that?” Mary says. “That’s horrible. Even under a spell, that’s horrible.”

“And people are saying that the reason you guys didn’t tell anyone is that you’re planning your revenge. People think we’re suddenly hanging out because you bewitched me.”

“This is Niki’s lie, but it’s not typical. Someone is setting us up,” Susannah says.

“The only thing to do is try to ride it out,” Mary says. “Not acknowledge it. There’s no evidence it was your stepmother. The police would have questioned you about it way earlier. It’s actually good you heard it from Dillon now instead of being surprised in class. Everyone would take your reaction as a confirmation that it’s true.”

“Riding it out isn’t the issue. What if something does happen to me?” I say.

“That was my thought, too,” Alice says. “Now, there’s a story. A reason for us to have conflict.”

“Redd’s warning,” Susannah says. “Maybe you are the target, Sam. And maybe we’re the ones supposed to take the fall for it.”

“It’s the thirteenth,” Mary says.

No one responds.

“The book,” I say. I cover my hand with my sleeve and pull the tissue-wrapped package out onto the seat between me and Susannah.

“Here,” Susannah says, and hands me two pens.

I pull back the tissues with them. The small silver book is engraved with a lacy pattern, and there’s a ship in the center. “You guys? Am I wrong, or is this the same ship drawing that was on those raffle tickets that put the seasickness spell on Susannah? The ticketsBlairgave us.”

“You’re not wrong,” Susannah says before anyone else can respond.

We all look at each other.

I push open the front cover with the pens. The off-white first page reads:

“That’s not a silver book, that’s a silver dance card,” Mary says with surprise. “My aunt has some in her antique shop. Women used to carry them at balls and things and write their dance partners down in them.” She leans over the center console to get a better look. “That one looks legitimately old.”

I flip to the next page, but it’s the same as the first, and so are all the ones after it. “A blank dance card, though? What does it mean? It’s the third object in my dream. It has to be significant.”

“Maybe there was an actual dance card on theTitanicthat has a real story?” Susannah suggests.

I pull out my phone and search. “Nothing pops up. And all theTitanicartifacts are cataloged in museums. If this was a real one, or a replica of a real one, it would be easy to find.”

My phone vibrates in my hand.

Dad:Where are you?

Me:With the girls.

Dad:I need you to come home now.

I stare at my phone. Something must have happened. He never talks like that.

Ijump out of the Jeep and sprint up to my house, the girls on my heels.