“Whoa,” Ema said again.

I pushed the door the rest of the way open. The creak grew louder, causing birds to scatter. Ema put her hand on my forearm. I looked down and saw her fingernails were black. She had silver rings on every finger. One was a skull and crossbones.

“That’s breaking and entering,” she said.

“You going to call the cops?” I asked.

“You kidding?” Her eyes lit up. She looked younger now, sweeter, almost like a little kid. When I saw the hint of a smile, I arched an eyebrow and that, I guessed, scared it away. The sullen was back. “Whatever,” she said, trying to sound like she couldn’t care less. “It’s cool.”

No, not cool. I knew that this wasn’t the smartest move, but the need to do something here, anything, outweighed those personal concerns. Besides, really, what was the risk? An old woman had yelled out some crazy things to me in the morning. I came by to check on her. When there was no answer, I decided to make sure that she was okay. That would be my story. What were they going to do, lock me up for that?

“You might as well go home,” I said to her.

“Dream on.”

“I guess I could use a lookout.”

“I’d rather go in.”

I shook my head.

Ema sighed. “Fine. I’ll be the lookout.” She took out her cell phone. “What’s your number?”

I gave it to her.

“I’ll stand over there. If I see her flap her wings, I’ll text you. By the way, what are you going to do if she is inside, waiting in the dark to pounce on you?”

I didn’t bother replying, though in truth I hadn’t thought of that. What if Bat Lady was waiting for me and… and what? What was she going to do, jump on my back? I’m a six-footfour-inch teenager. She’s a tiny old woman. Get a grip.

I stepped into the kitchen. I didn’t close the door behind me. I wanted a quick escape in case… well, whatever.