I closed my eyes and smiled. Tonight was going to be amazing. Unforgettable. A whiff of smoke made me open my eyes. Smelling smoke in the middle of the woods was never a good thing. Someone stepped in front of the window, and I jumped back. A yelp escaped my lips, and I stumbled into the bed. A guy was standing outside the window, looking into my bedroom.

“Ethan!”

“Wait,” the guy said. “Don’t scream.”

Don’t scream? Yeah, right. “Ethan!” I yelled even louder.

“Let me in,” the guy said. “I need to talk to you.”

I knew he couldn’t get in through the locked window, and I couldn’t remember if we’d bolted the front door, so I ran from the bedroom.

“No!” he called after me.

Ethan met me in the living room, soaking wet with shampoo still in his hair.

“There was someone outside our bedroom window!” I pointed toward the bedroom as if Ethan didn’t know where it was. I was freaked.

Ethan clutched his towel to his hips and ran to the bedroom. “They’re gone.” He came back out a second later with a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on. “I’m going to check outside. Lock the door behind me.”

I barely processed the words. I was having trouble figuring out why anyone would be spying on us. Why anyone would even come to an abandoned cottage at night. It made me wonder about the wooden box with the strange things inside. Maybe this place hadn’t been totally abandoned after all. Maybe someone had been using it. For what, I didn’t know.

Ethan grabbed my arms, holding me by my elbows. “Sam, are you listening to me? I want you to stay here.” He put his cell phone in my hand. “Call 911 if anything goes wrong.”

If anything went wrong? Like that guy hurting Ethan? “Don’t go out there.” I gripped his arms. “You don’t have to. We can call the police. Tell them about coming home to find the rocks and then the guy peeking in our window. Let them handle it.”

“Calling the police has to be a last resort. My parents probably have my picture posted everywhere by now, trying to find me, and that includes in the police database. I doubt anyone here would recognize me, but I’m not taking that chance unless I absolutely have to.”

He was right. I couldn’t put him in that situation. He’d run away for me. He’d done all this for me. I had to let him handle the peeping Tom his way. I nodded.

“Lock the door behind me.” He grabbed a flashlight and a hammer and went outside. I closed the door, but before I could reach for the lock, Ethan’s cell phone buzzed in my hand. The display showed his mom’s number. She must have been worried sick. My illness had hit her hard. She knew her son would be devastated when I died, but I was sure she didn’t think he’d run away. I hated that my being alive was causing her pain.

I let the call go to voicemail, and when it beeped with a new message, I played it. It wasn’t the only message. There were fourteen according to the mechanical voice. I couldn’t listen to them all, but I played the most recent one.

Ethan, please, let me know you’re okay. I just need to make sure you aren’t hurt. I know losing Sam was hard on you, but you need your family right now. We need you, too.

Her sobs tore my insides to shreds.

Something slammed into the side of the cottage. By the sound of it, it was close to the bedroom. I ran for the bedroom and peered out the window. Ethan was leaning against the house, slumped forward in pain.

“Ethan!” I had to help him, but the front door swung open. The guy saw me instantly. I backed farther into the bedroom, pushing the door closed, but a foot blocked me.

“I need to talk to you.” The guy rammed the door open.

I screamed and backed away as he stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He had platinum-blond hair and alarming blue eyes. He was skinny but strong, judging by how he forced his way into the room.

“Who are you?” I yelled, hoping it was loud enough to alert Ethan—if he’d recovered.

“I’m trying to help you.”

He moved toward me, and I backed into the corner between the bed and the closet. I looked around for a weapon, something to use to keep this guy back. I reached for the lamp by the bed and picked it up.

“Stay back!”

“I’m not going to hurt you. Put that down. We don’t have much time, and there’s so much I need to tell you.”

“I’m not putting this down, and I’m not having a discussion with some random guy who broke into my house.”

He reached for the lamp. “Come on. Give me the lamp.”

“Give you the lamp? Oh, yeah, sure. You’ve trapped me in a room with you. Let me give you a weapon to bash my head in.” I scoffed. “Not happening.”

“You have to listen to me.” He stopped moving toward me and dropped his arm like something had snapped inside him. “Besides, why would you use the lamp on me when you can kill me with your bare hands?”

My bare hands? Oh, my God! What did he know? Had he seen me last night? He could’ve been in the car that was driving by. He could’ve been the one who put the rocks in a circle around the cottage. He knew what I was, and he was trying to scare me.

“Sam, you need to hear what I have to say.”

A lump formed in my throat. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

“Sam!” Ethan shouted.

“Ethan!” I gripped the lamp tighter in my hands in case the mystery guy tried to attack me out of desperation.

The bedroom door flew open, and Ethan’s eyes rushed from me to the guy. He lunged for him. “Get the hell away from her!” Ethan grabbed the guy by the front of his shirt and threw him into the living room. I heard a crash and knew our TV had gone down with him. So much for our one channel.

I held onto the lamp, yanking the cord from the wall, just in case Ethan lost the upper hand before we got rid of the intruder. I rushed to the doorway and stayed there as Ethan grabbed the guy and hauled him to his feet. He pulled back his arm and slugged the guy right in the nose. The sickening crunch of bones breaking made me cringe so much my shoulders practically went through the roof. The turkey and cheese sandwich I’d inhaled between refilling drinks threatened to make a reappearance.

Blood poured from the guy’s nose, and there was a small part of me that felt sorry for him. Ethan backed off a little and watched the guy stagger backward. His eyes were glued to me. “You have no idea what you’re doing,” he said, reaching for the door.

“If I ever see you near this place or Sam again, I’ll break a lot more than your nose.” Ethan gave the guy a final shove in the chest. He slammed the front door behind him and bolted it. The back of his head looked sticky with dark red blood from where he’d slammed into the side of the cottage. I had no idea where the flashlight or hammer was or how the guy had gotten the upper hand on Ethan. All I knew was Ethan was hurt.

I dropped the lamp, not even caring that the bulb shattered on the floor. I ran to Ethan and buried my head in his chest. My whole body heaved as I sobbed.

“Shh. It’s okay. He’s gone.” Ethan rubbed my back, trying to calm me.

But in that moment, nothing could calm me. I’d died, come back a killer, and now someone knew my secret. Knew it and might want to hurt me because of it.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I SPENT the night in Ethan’s arms. I barely slept, afraid I’d start gasping for air. I wouldn’t kill Ethan in my sleep. I’d never let that happen. So I lay awake, listening to his rhythmic breathing. I hoped he didn’t have a concussion, but he assured me it was only a scratch, nothing bad. Still, when the first rays of sun peeked through the window, and Ethan rolled over, I checked his head for gashes. Not a one. His pillow didn’t have so much as a drop of blood on it. He’d be okay.

I turned over to check the alarm clock. Ten after six. I had to get up and face my first day of school as Samantha Smith. Since Ethan had gone shopping during my training at the diner yesterday, we finally had more than crackers to eat. The good part about working at the diner every day after school was we’d never have to cook dinner for ourselves. Gloria said dinner was part of our wages. I think she just liked being motherly. She was sweet like that.