The Old Willis Place

go. She must be a rule breaker, I thought. I glanced at Georgie. Maybe I'd break a few rules myself.
    At the front steps, Lissa stopped and stared up at the double doors, secured with a rusty chain and padlock.
    Georgie gripped my arm. "She's too close," he whispered. "What if she—"
    "We have to stop her." I took a step toward the house, but Georgie tightened his hold on me.
    "No. You can't let her see you!"
    "But she might be in danger—"
    "We can't do anything," Georgie insisted. "Besides, Lissa's not the one she wants."
    Reluctantly I stepped back into the shade, unseen, unheard. Lissa was new to Oak Hill Manor. She knew nothing of the danger lurking behind those locked doors and boarded windows.
    Instead of climbing the rotting steps, Lissa stood on the grass, her face wistful, and gazed at the house. She was still too close, much closer than I dared go. Could she hear anything stirring behind the walls?
    "Oh, MacDuff," Lissa said. "Think how grand it must have been once. Can't you see guests arriving for parties, all dressed in fine clothes? They'd pull up right here in horse-drawn carriages. Inside the house, there'd be sparkling crystal chandeliers, dozens of candles, platters of delicious food, a band playing a waltz. Ladies and gentlemen would have danced all night long, twirling round and round till dawn."
    Lissa held out her arms and spun, as if dancing to music only she could hear. MacDuff cocked his head and watched.
    Georgie snickered, and I grabbed his arm as if I meant to pinch him. "Hush, she'll hear you," I whispered.
    After a few seconds, Lissa dropped her arms and curtsied as if she were thanking an invisible partner for the dance. Then, with MacDuff bounding ahead, she walked around the house. Georgie and I followed, as silent as an extra pair of shadows.
    At the rear, she climbed the shallow steps leading to the wide brick terrace that ran the length of the house. She sat on a stone bench supported by two crouching lions, their faces streaked with dark stains like tears. It used to be my special seat, my throne. I hadn't even allowed Georgie to sit there.
    "She's on your bench," Georgie whispered. "Don't you care?"
    I shook my head. Seeing Lissa in my favorite place made me feel closer to her, as if she were truly my friend and I was sharing something important with her.
    Georgie sighed and went to work on his mosquito bites. I slapped his hand. "Don't scratch. You'll make them worse."
    He pulled away. "I'll scratch if I want to. What does it matter, anyway?"
    I shrugged. "Do what you like. I'm sick of arguing with you.
    I put some space between us and watched MacDuff run back and forth on the lawn, sniffing and wagging his tail. A pair of mourning doves hunted for food near a shaggy boxwood hedge, cooing to each other in their soft melancholy voices. Somewhere in the woods, a crow called and another answered.
    In the fields, insects buzzed and chirped. High in the treetops the wind sighed in the leaves, blowing a few off. They spun through the air and twirled to the ground, landing with a dry rustle.
    Lissa sat on the bench, as still as the stone cherubs perched on the terrace steps. She seemed to be watching the clouds, just as I had when I'd sat on that bench.
    Georgie shifted his weight and sighed. "She never does anything but moon around. Just like you."
    "If you're so bored, go away and do something else. I don't care."
    "If I leave, how do I know you won't go over there and start talking to her?"
    I stuck out my tongue. "You'll just have to trust me, won't you?"
    Georgie made a worse face, but he wasn't sure what to do. Go or stay. Trust me or doubt me. "Promise you won't talk to her," he said at last.
    I crossed my fingers behind my back and promised.
    "I'll be back soon," he warned me.
    In a moment, he was gone, swallowed by the woods as if he were more deer than boy. Left to myself, I continued to watch Lissa. MacDuff had wandered off, and she was alone on the terrace. I wished I knew what she was thinking.
    After a while, she walked to the top of the brick steps and looked directly at the tree that hid me.
    "I know you're there," she said. "Who are you? What do you want?"
    I glanced behind me, thinking Georgie might be hiding nearby to see what I'd do. I heard nothing but a squirrel chattering on a branch and saw nothing but a crow winging from one tree to the next.
    "Come out," Lissa shouted. "Let me see your stupid, stealing faces!"
    Tense as a deer at the edge of the woods, I