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When I reach Maddie’s room I come to a dead stop. The door is closed. It’s supposed to be that way. It’s supposed to stay that way until Maddie is ready to come out on her own. I didn’t want anyone watching and listening and scaring Maddie with the realization of how much this matters.

But even now I can hear voices from the front hall. There’s a low, calm voice I don’t know, then a rapid-fire spray of words tumbling over each other that must be coming from Monica and Paulie, spilling out whatever story they came up with in the space of five seconds.

I need to know—now—if the Chattercat worked. If it really got Maddie to talk about the night of the break-in. And if she really saw Flynn.

But I don’t want to open Maddie’s door. Because then I’ll get the answers to all those ifs. And they may not be the answers I’m hoping for.