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.