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I liked him. And I told him, and he . . . kind of freaked out. And told everyone. And—”

“Wait, told everyone what?” I interrupted, confused. “That you liked . . .” I trailed off as I realized what he meant.

Not liked him. Liked him. A crush.

“Oh. Okay,” I said. Oscar glanced at me uncertainly, and I tried to smile in a reassuring way. “So—”

Beep! Beep! Beep!

I gasped, nearly dropping Lidia’s phone. Oscar leaned closer and we stared at the screen.

KEEP HER AWAY <3 KEEP HER AWAY <3 KEEP HER AWAY <3

The beeps bounced off the stone walls, unnaturally loud in the tomblike prison. Frantically, I pressed a bunch of buttons at random. Oscar grabbed it and popped the batteries out, and the beeping stopped.

“Okay, seriously,” he said. “What’s going on? The phone, the GPS in the taxi, the laptop . . .”

“It’s the show’s ghost. He likes me.”

He stared at me. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re kidding, Kat.”

“Neither can I,” I said wryly. “Look, Sam said the ghost of a boy haunts the show. The one in the photo next to Lidia, remember?”

I started walking again, and Oscar kept up at my side. “Oookay . . . so what are these messages about? Keep her away . . . Who’s her? Emily?”

“I guess . . .” I trailed off, picturing the way the ghost boy had reached for Lidia as she’d crumpled. Ever since we’d left Crimptown, he’d been trying harder and harder to tell me something. And Lidia had been getting sicker and sicker. “No. It’s about Lidia.”

“What? Why?”

We passed the entrance and headed down the other hall. “The most haunted show on television,” I said, thinking out loud. “It started with the dead air in the first episode—the séance. What if the show is haunted because the ghost from the lighthouse never left?”

The corridor dead-ended, another hall stretching out to our right. “Lidia passed out at the first séance, when the lightbulb exploded,” I continued. “And then again in Crimptown—and she’d been with Sam right before that. The message says the medium. It’s not that Sam is dangerous, it’s that he contacts ghosts. He contacted the lighthouse ghost, he contacted Sonja . . .”

I stopped again, and Oscar faced me. “What?”

“Sonja possessed Lidia,” I whispered. “Mi Jin said it takes a ton of energy for a ghost to possess a person or objects . . . but ghosts can manipulate electricity.”

Oscar glanced down at Lidia’s smartphone. “So?”

“The hearts,” I said softly. “Her heart—Lidia’s heart.”

“What do you . . . ?” Oscar trailed off, and I saw the realization dawn on his face before I said it out loud.

“Her pacemaker. That’s why they can possess her.”

Oscar exhaled loudly. The temperature had dropped so low, I could see a wisp of his breath. “Okay. And now she’s running around a prison with hundreds of ghosts. Perfect.”

We walked toward the end of the hall, neither of us speaking. I was so lost in my thoughts about Lidia that we were almost in front of the last cell before I heard the rhythmic scrape-scrape-scrape.

Abandoning all pretense, I grabbed Oscar’s hand. We exchanged a terrified look before taking the last few steps and peering inside the dark cell. A filthy cot was bolted to the wall on the right, directly below the sad excuse for a window letting in a weak ray of moonlight.

But my eyes went straight to the figure crouched in the corner, scraping at the floor.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE RETURN OF RED LEER

P2P WIKI

Entry: “Cold Spots”

[Last edited by beautifulgollum]

Cold spots are various spots in a haunted location with cooler temperatures, often thought to indicate the presence of ghosts which have not materialized.

My skin felt like ice. All my instincts screamed at me to run, but my feet were frozen to the ground. It was a woman—a woman with long hair hanging in her eyes, head bowed, sliding something over a board lying on the ground . . . a board with letters, numbers, and a tiny light flashing red . . .

Oscar squeezed my hand so hard I cringed. “Aunt Lidia?”

My knees nearly buckled in relief. He was right—it was Lidia, crouched over Mi Jin’s Ouija board. But she didn’t stop moving the planchette when Oscar said her name. He approached her slowly, letting go of my hand to kneel down next to her. “Can you hear me?”

Scrape-scrape-scrape.

“You forgot your medicine again.” Tentatively, Oscar touched her arm. I stared down at the board, a chill of dread slowly creeping down my spine.

“Oscar . . .”

“Look, it’s right here.” Oscar handed me the walkie-talkie and pulled the bottle of pills out of his pocket. “Aunt Lidia, can you stop for a second, please?”

“Oscar.”

“What?”

I pointed at the board. “Look at what she’s spelling.”

F R E E T H E M E N—F R E E T H E M E N—F R E E T H E M E N

“Free the men?” Oscar glanced nervously at Lidia. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I swallowed. “Remember the Ouija board? Gather the women. And the other one—free them.”

“So?”

“Oscar, think about it.” My voice cracked with fear. “She’s been sick ever since Crimptown.”

“Yeah . . .” Oscar stood slowly, lowering his voice. “Wait. You think Sonja is still possessing her?”

“Not Sonja.” Kneeling down, I grabbed both of Lidia’s hands with mine. The scraping stopped, and suddenly the cell felt too quiet. Lidia didn’t look up, though I could see her shoulders rise and fall with each quick, shallow breath.

“Who are you?” I whispered, then let go of her hands. I knew the name she would spell before the planchette slid over to the first letter.

R E D L E E R

The scraping stopped. Oscar and I backed away as Lidia lifted her head. Slowly, her lips stretched into a wide, wide smile.

But not Lidia’s smile.

She lurched forward, shoving us aside with freakish strength. I slammed into the wall as Lidia burst out of the cell and took off down the corridor.

“Wait!” Oscar struggled to his feet and sprinted after her. Dizzy, I stumbled out after him. Tiny spots of light danced in my vision as I ran down the dark corridor. I could just make out Lidia racing around the corner, and Oscar

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