The boardwalk had been condemned since before any of us were born, but the dare never died: six kids, one flashlight, the Hall of Mirrors at the dead end of the pier. Salt wind rattled the boarded ticket booth as we squeezed inside. The air went still and warm, like breath. Then our six reflections stepped in beside us, perfectly in time. "Okay," Maya whispered. "Now what?"

I shined the light right at my reflection to prove it was just me. But my reflection didn't squint at the brightness. It smiled instead, slow and wrong, and lifted one finger to its lips. Shhh. Behind me, someone gasped.

I dropped the flashlight and it spun, throwing light everywhere. In the chaos of moving shadows, my smiling reflection reached out of the glass and grabbed my wrist. Its hand was warm. "Trade with me," it whispered. "Just one of you. Then the rest go free."

"No," I said, and I shut my eyes so I couldn't see it smile. Blind, I groped along the warm glass toward the salt wind. The reflection's grip burned my wrist, begging, but I twisted free and ran. We all made it out, all six, but my wrist still has a cold white handprint that never fades.