believe them. And yet, deep in her heart, she knew that he was wrong. There was something evil in the mill, and it was spreading out now, reaching out toward them. If they didn’t do something, it would destroy them all.
But what could they do, short of destroying the mill?
Nothing.
She had to find a way to convince him she was right. And she had to find it soon.
“Did I really do all right?” Beth asked an hour later when Tracy finally called a halt to the tennis lesson.
“You did great,” Tracy lied, wondering why she’d even bothered to suggest tennis lessons, when anything else would have done just as well. It had been so boring, standing there in the hot sun, throwing balls gently over the net for Beth to try to hit. And she’d hardly been able to keep from laughing as Beth kept chopping away at them, most of the time not even coming close to hitting one of them. Of course it had been kind of fun the last fifteen minutes, when she’d started throwing them all over the place, making Beth run back and forth as fast as she could.
“When are you going to teach me how to serve?”
“Tomorrow,” Tracy promised. She jumped easily over the net and started gathering up the balls that were scattered all over the court. When they were finished, they started toward the house, but Tracy suddenly stopped, as if something had just caught her eye. When Beth turned, Tracy was looking up the hill toward the mausoleum. When she could see Beth watching her out of the corner of her eye, she spoke. “I bet Amy’s supposed to be buried up there,” she said.
Beth’s eyes widened. “A-Amy?” she stammered. “I thought you didn’t believe there was any such person.”
“I changed my mind,” Tracy said. “I told you that this morning, didn’t I? That I didn’t think you were crazy anymore?”
Beth nodded hesitantly.
“So if I don’t think you’re crazy, and you think Amy’s real, then I have to think she is too, don’t I?”
“I … I guess so.”
“Besides,” Tracy went on, her voice dropping, “I snuck into my grandmother’s room last night, and found something.”
A thrill of anticipation ran through Beth, and her eyes widened. “About Amy?”
Tracy nodded.
“What?” Beth asked. “What did you find?”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“I promise.”
Tracy eyed the other girl narrowly. “Swear on your father’s grave?”
“Th—that’s not fair,” Beth protested, struggling against the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.
“If you don’t swear, I won’t tell you,” Tracy said.
Beth hesitated, then nodded. “I … I swear.”
“Okay, I found a book, and it tells all about Amy.”
“What does it say?”
Tracy smiled mysteriously. “Want to read it?”
“You mean you still have it?”
“I hid it in my room. Come on.”
They hurried into the house, and went upstairs. When they reached the landing, Tracy whispered into Beth’s ear, “Go into your room and lock the door, and don’t let anyone in until I give the secret code. And as soon as I come in, lock the door behind me. All right?”
Beth nodded, and scurried into her room, locking the door behind her. Giggling, Tracy went into her own room, closed the door, then flopped down on the bed and turned on her television. Half an hour later, when she decided that if she waited any longer Beth would decide she’d been joking, she pulled the metal box out from under her bed, checked the upstairs hall, then ran down and knocked twice on Beth’s door, waited a second, then knocked again. Instantly the door opened, and Beth let her in.
“What happened?” Beth whispered. “I thought you weren’t ever coming.”
“I almost got caught,” Tracy told her. “Every time I tried to sneak out of my room, Hannah was snooping around. And if she catches us with this, she’ll tell my father, and he’ll whip us both.”
Beth gasped. “Whip us? Really?”
Tracy nodded solemnly. “That’s why we can’t let him know we have it.” Then she took the box to Beth’s desk, and lifted the lid. Ceremoniously, she took the book out, laid it on the desk, and carefully opened its cover. “Read it,” she said.
When Beth had finished deciphering the strange handwriting that covered the pages of the little book, she looked up at Tracy.
“What does it mean?” she asked. “What’ll we do?”
“It means they buried her in the wrong place,” Tracy replied. “Don’t you see? She’s supposed to be up in the mausoleum, but she’s not. That’s what she wants.”