Her brow wrinkled. She looked hurt and offended, and she started to fade away.

Alarmed, I said, "No, no! Misty, don't go anywhere!"

"But she was with her mother," the driver protested. "The car was right, the school was right, the mother was right."

"Yeah," the bald one added. "The blonde mommy picked up her at school. They hugged!"

"The Beale girl and a friend did some sort of mom-swap this weekend," the new voice explained. "You grabbed the friend."

"What are you talking about? What the hell is a mom-swap?"

"It doesn't matter. What *does* matter is that you got the wrong girl!"

"Maybe her parents will pay–"

"Nothing like the Beale girl's parents. They're beyond rich."

"So, who is this one?"

"That, I don't know. Let's go see."

"How could you not know? I mean, you're a–"

"Quiet!" the voice commanded. "Little ears can hear."

"Huh?" the bald one asked. Then, "Oh, oh, I get it! The girl has little ears."

I heard a loud sigh from the third man.

Three sets of footsteps climbed the stairs and stopped in front of my door. "Wait a minute," the new voice said, "let me get this mask on," and some fumbling followed.

I backed into the corner farthest from the door and picked up a half-empty water bottle. It was my only defense. At worst, I could use it as club to hit them with.

As I clutched the bottle to my chest, I realized there was plaster and other dirt on my hands and arms, but at the moment it didn't matter.

The key turned in the lock and the door opened. A tall, broad-shouldered figure in a ski mask ducked through the doorway and stepped inside. The moment I saw him, I knew who he was, mask or no mask: the voice, the way he talked... everything clicked.

A wave of gooseflesh shot all the way from my hips to my ears. My heart was pounding before, but now it went into overdrive.

"You!" he and I cried in the same moment.

It was Sister Honororia's brother, the policeman.

I was horrified. I was trembling. There was no worse person for him to be. No one on earth. The two of us gaped at each other in silence. He knew who I was, and he knew that I knew who he was.

He swore, stepped out of the room, and locked it.

It was the worst, most blackest moment of my life. I hope I am never that frightened, ever again. My mind went entirely blank, and I crawled on hands and knees to the door to listen. I didn't even remember getting down on the floor.

It sounded like the men had stopped halfway down the stairs to argue.

"... You two have to disappear!" the policeman was saying.

"With what money?" the driver shouted. "We don't have any money to go anywhere! That's why we did this job! If we had money, we wouldn't have broken the law!"

"Money or no money, you two are out of here! Don't you get it? This has gone as badly as it can go, and we have to cut our losses NOW."

"What about the girl?" the bald one asked. "Do we let her go?"

"Are you kidding?" the policeman scoffed. "She knows who I am. She can identify me. She has to go!"

"You mean, go with us?" the bald one asked. "I'm not dragging a kid along!"

"What, are you stupid? I'm not asking you to adopt her! I'm telling you we have to kill her! There are two shovels out back. Go to the woods and dig a deep hole. As deep as you can. Deeper than six feet, if possible."

"I'm not killing anyone, especially a kid," the driver said. "Frank isn't either. We didn't sign up for that. We won't let you kill her, either."

"And why are there two shovels out back?" the bald one shouted. "You were going to kill her all along, weren't you?"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" the policeman shouted.
 

Suddenly I was aware of a presence next to me. A cute, smiling, pony-tailed head... It was Misty! She was imitating me, crouched down on hands and knees. Of course, she was wearing her workout clothes, and her ponytail hung straight down behind her.

"Misty!" I cried. I was never so glad to see anyone! I tried to hug her, but although she looked solid, my hands passed right through her body.

"Hi," she said, smiling brightly. "I missed you, too! I was wondering where you were. Why are we on hands and knees? Are you playing some kind of game?"

"No, Misty! It's not a game! I've been kidnapped! Can you tell my mother where I am?"

She looked confused. "No...," she said. "I can't. I don't know where you are! I just thought of you and then I was here. We could be anywhere for all I know. But I can tell her you're okay."

If I could grab her, I would have shaken her. "Misty, I'm not okay! Can't you get it?"

Her brow wrinkled. She looked hurt and offended, and she started to fade away.

Alarmed, I said, "No, no! Misty, don't go anywhere!"

When she first appeared, crouching next to me, she looked as real as I am. Now she was half-transparent. I could still see her, but I could also see the room behind her, through her. The thought of losing her frightened me, but it also gave me an idea.

"Misty! Misty, listen: Can you get me out of here? Can you make me pass through the door? Can you make me invisible?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. Sorry. No offense, but you're too big. I can only do that with little stuff, like pens and papers and things. And even that's hard."

My mind was racing. "Okay! Listen: My purse is just outside, in a van parked out front. Can you go down and get it for me? Or at least get me my cell phone?"

"Yeah, I think so," she said uncertainly. For some reason, it didn't sound as though she wanted to. "Why can't you get it yourself?"

Was she being deliberately stupid? I couldn't understand what was going on with her. "Misty, I've been kidnapped. I'm locked in this horrible room. This is like a prison cell. I can't get out."

She looked around, taking in the room, her lips wrinkling in distaste. "Why would anybody kidnap you?" she asked.

"Because they think I'm Maisie."

"But Maisie's at your house."

"I know. We did the mom swap again."

"Why would they kidnap Maisie?"

I bit my lip. This was going nowhere fast, but I had to humor her: she was my only hope.

"Maisie's father is rich. They figure he'll pay a huge ransom."

"Won't he pay a ransom for you?"

"No. Why would he?"

"Won't your father pay?"

"We don't have the kind of money they want."

"Hmmph," she said, and seemed to be thinking.

I couldn't wait any longer for her to connect the dots. I burst out, "Misty, please! Go get my phone! You have to help me! I need your help! These guys want to kill me, do you understand? They have shovels out back — they're going to dig a hole and murder me! You're my only hope. You're the only one who can help me. There is no one else!"

I was begging her, but she wasn't reacting at all. I wasn't getting through, and couldn't understand why.

She hesitated, sucked her lips in, and sat down on the floor, crossing her legs. She was calm and quiet. She didn't look at me, and she wasn't smiling any more.

Then Misty tilted her head to one side and looked me in the face.

"Marcie," she said softly. "I know this is hard for you... but if they kill you, you'll be dead, like me. Being dead's not so bad... Once you get used to it, anyway. And I can help you with that! We'll be friends – better friends than we are now. And you could still talk to your mother."

Her face had a serious, unsmiling set, but just under the surface her quiet excitement rippled and simmered, like a fever.

"Think of the fun things we could do together, Marcie! All kinds of cool, spooky things!"

Her eyes were the biggest they'd ever been, and her face lit up with an unearthly smile. She looked like a child, dreaming of Christmas morning, and the one gift she wanted — the one she wanted most of all — was a ghostly playfriend just like me.

"Oh, my God," I whispered.

© 2007 Kaleigh Way