Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,105

looked up at Will, seeing him pull cash out of his wallet and then take a stick of pink cotton candy, handing it to me as he took his change.

“You want my jacket?” he asked as we started to walk again.

I picked off some of the fluffy sugar. “I’m okay.”

I stuck the candy in my mouth, honestly a little chilly, but I was loving the wind too much. I was like my grandmother that way.

We walked, the sounds of the park raging around us—screams and coaster tracks and bells ringing from the game booths…

The sea air wafted through my nostrils, and I looked past the Ferris wheel, deep into the dark where I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was there.

The coast and the ocean and Cold Point—the edge that dropped off onto the rocks and into the sea.

Will leaned over and picked off some candy, and I did the same, warming when his arm brushed mine. His other hand rested on the small of my back, and I felt his eyes on me.

“Have you ever heard of The Carfax Room?” I asked, picking off more candy and eating it.

“Sure,” he said. “It’s like Edward McClanahan and Blackchurch and EverNight. Another Thunder Bay urban legend.”

I turned my head, looking up at him. “What’s Blackchurch?”

“A house.” He shrugged. “Supposedly.”

He paused, eating more, and we passed game booths where a few people played. The park wasn’t too crowded tonight, some middle schoolers making it louder than normal.

He continued, “No one knows where it is, if it’s even real, but stories abound of rich, young men who can’t behave being ferried away there to be hidden.”

He’d hesitated, like he couldn’t think of a better word.

“Hidden?” I pressed.

He laughed under his breath. “Well, we can’t be arrested,” he pointed out as if I should’ve known. “It looks bad for the family, you know? So, moms and dads will send you to Blackchurch if you become too uncontrollable. You just disappear. Overnight. Legend has it that it’s remote, secluded, and wild.”

I realized I’d nearly stopped walking as I stared at him. “And you get sent there forever?”

“Until we learn to behave,” he said. “But for some, it has the opposite effect. They go feral. So yes, they would stay there forever.”

I gaped at him. Who does that? Who sends their kid away because they’re afraid of publicity?

Were they getting help while they were away, or were they just marooned and abandoned?

He looked at me and started laughing. “It’s not real, Em. Just bullshit people like to spew because we’re bored.” He took some more candy, sticking it into his mouth. “And if it did exist, my parents would never send me there. Everyone loves me.”

I shot him a look. He was too self-aware. But came off adorable.

“But The Carfax Room,” he continued. “I can see that being true.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a fabled, hidden room somewhere in town,” he told me, “which is entirely plausible since this town has lots of hiding places. It’s like a panic room, from what I understand. It’s passed from one person to the next, each occupant searching for the next who has need of such a place. There are no limits on how long you can have it. Just pay it forward when you’re done. Or something like that.”

Now the note made a little more sense.

A panic room. Someone who needs it.

Use it. Pass it on.

But…

Someone gave it to me. Out of everyone in town, someone gave it to me.

I opened my mouth, tempted to tell Will I had found it.

But I wasn’t sure I wanted anyone to know I had it.

“So it’s like the Room of Requirement from Harry Potter.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, “but… if it does exist, each occupant must be carefully chosen, and the place must command a lot of respect.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because we would’ve found it by now.” He looked down at me. “If it is real, the location would’ve been divulged at some point over all the years, don’t you think? Whoever it’s being passed on to must need it for more than just keg parties or…”

I caught his eyes. Or hookups, he didn’t finish saying.

That’s true. Whoever had it before me kept it quiet, and they trusted me—for some reason—to do the same.

I took another bite of cotton candy but noticed Will still looking down at me. He stared at my arm, pensive.

“Doesn’t seem like makeup,” he mused, reaching out to touch the bruise.

I pulled away but