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asked Matthew.

“I don’t know,” said his grandfather, blowing out a breath. “I know that there is violence and abuse in that family, a skein that runs deep through generations. Very often abused boys become dangerous men. There’s nothing supernatural about that.”

“My great-uncle died at Havenwood.”

They all turned to see that Penny had come into the room and was standing by the door with her arms folded across her middle.

“Horrible things happened at Havenwood and here at Merle House,” she went on. “And the land, it remembers. Pain and sadness, fear and madness, it seeps into the soil. There’s an energy.”

“Penny’s family, once upon a time, owned this land,” said Old Man Merle with a nod. “Dr. Arkmann bought it when the land dried up and could no longer be farmed. He bought a hundred acres and built Havenwood.”

“This land has always been cursed, long before Havenwood, before Merle House. It infected my family too. That’s what my grandmother told me.”

“More myth,” said Matthew’s grandfather, not unkindly.

“How did it infect your family?” asked Claire, her voice soft.

Penny shook her head, looked down at the ground between them. “There have been evil men in my family—rapists, murderers, child killers. I’d rather not say it all.”

It seemed impossible, when Penny was so good, so kind and reliable, always taking care of them.

“Violence breeds violence,” said Matthew’s grandfather. “Nature or nurture—or both. It has nothing to do with hauntings or curses. It takes someone strong like Penny to break the chain. Isn’t that right, Penny? Your girls went off to college, and now one’s a reporter, the other a research scientist.”

Penny nodded. “That’s right. They moved far from this place.”

“History only has so much power,” the old man went on. “And there are no such things as ghosts or bogeymen. There are just bad people looking for a reason to do bad things.”

They all stood silent for a moment.

“Dr. Arkmann is buried on this land, long dead,” said Matthew’s grandfather. “His facility is a ruin that should be torn down, I suppose. And, yes, horrible things have happened here in this very house. But that’s the past. And the rest of it, just stories created and perpetuated by small and frightened minds.”

He leaned back in the big leather chair.

“Matthew, it will be up to you to make a better future for Merle House. And, all of you, stay away from Havenwood, and from superstitious people. And when you hear rumors, ignore them.”

“What about Mason?” asked Matthew.

“I’ll send our lawyer to help him navigate whatever comes next, to make sure he’s treated fairly. His family and ours, like Penny said, we’re connected over generations. I’ll make sure he and his mother get whatever they need.”

They all stood waiting for more. But the old man seemed to lose himself in the book he’d showed them, turning through its pages.

Matthew walked Claire and Ian down the long hallway.

“I saw him,” Claire said again. “He was real.”

Matthew had seen him, too, a shadow in the hallway, a form in the corner of his room that disappeared when the lights turned on, in his dreams. Matthew had, in fact, been seeing him since he was a child. He’d even thought he’d caught a glimpse of him that night when Mason had made his wish. The weird thing was, Matthew wasn’t afraid of him. Not at all. In fact, the Dark Man was one of the things Matthew loved most about Merle House.

In the foyer, they all stood and looked at each other awkwardly, no one quite sure what to say.

“Do you think Mason killed his father?” asked Ian.

“Or Amelia?” said Claire, eyes wide.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Matthew. He turned a finger at his temple. “Mason’s crazy. You know that. He’s weird. Creepy.”

Matthew didn’t think Mason was guilty of anything. The words just seemed to spring from his mouth, and when they were on the air, they seemed true. Claire and Ian nodded uncertainly. Claire frowned and opened her mouth as if to speak, but when the doorbell rang, she pressed her lips closed.

“It’s like my grandfather said. There’s no Dark Man, just bad people looking for a reason to do bad things.”

Claire shook her head, but didn’t say anything. Ian nodded, but kept his eyes to the ground.

They each stood stone still with their own thoughts, with their own versions of what they’d experienced. Then Claire and Ian left, and Matthew was alone.

“Are you just going to stand there like a statue?” Penny scolded.

How long had he just stood there, listening to the Dark Man?

“Go get in the shower and wash this day off your skin.”

Matthew obeyed. He didn’t know, as he got in the shower and rinsed the day’s dirt away, that his parents would come for him the very next day, that it would be years before he saw his friends again, and that slowly he’d bury all his memories of Merle House, Havenwood, and the Dark Man as deep as he could.

5.

When Ian finally arrived at Merle House after what seemed like an endless drive, it looked as if nothing had changed. The house. The grounds. The whispering of the trees. It was exactly as Ian remembered it. He climbed out of the car and stood a moment, just observing.

“So this is it,” said Liz. “Doesn’t look so bad.”

Her laughter was like chimes on the wind. But then she was gone.

As he stood, he watched a taxi approach. It came to a crunching stop, and after a moment, a young woman climbed out. Claire.

The driver, a young bespectacled guy in a plaid shirt, helped her take her bag from the trunk. And Ian was lost in the watching of her. She came to stand before him, wearing an uncertain smile.

“Hey,” she said. “Long time.”

“Too long,” he said. “You look . . . beautiful.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I really don’t.”

Strange.

Standing there with her, just as he had so many times years ago, it

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