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Why does Zenobia want the amulet if she already has it?” She paused, then asked cautiously, “Is there more to this than just a ghost?”
    Marilyn didn’t answer for a long time. After they had walked three blocks in silence, she said, “Promise you won’t laugh?”
    Her face solemn, Alicia drew a cross over her heart, then placed her fingertip against her lips. It was a ritual they had developed years ago to ensure judgment-free listening.
    Marilyn searched her friend’s face. Alicia stared back at her with clear blue eyes.
    â€œAll right,” said Marilyn at last. “I’ll tell you everything that’s happened. And if you ever tell anyone else, I’ll kill you.”
    Alicia pointed to her mouth and moved her jaw as if she were trying to speak. Her lips remained sealed shut.
    Marilyn smiled. But she remained silent for another moment. Overhead a cloud moved across the sun, blocking out the light. Marilyn shivered and began to speak, this time telling Alicia not merely that she had seen Zenobia’s ghost, but all the details of the story, starting with the night that Zenobia had asked her to care for the amulet.
    She went on to tell the story of the nightmare that had woken her the night of Zenobia’s death—and of her horror at discovering the amulet she had been entrusted with was missing from her room. As she spoke, she realized for the first time that the creature she had seen in that first dream was the same one she had seen with the amulet last night. The knowledge had been there all along. She had been avoiding it, because she didn’t want to deal with it.
    She continued, telling Alicia about finding Zenobia’s body, her hand still clutching the mysterious amulet, and the two voices she had heard at Zenobia’s bedside.
    Finally she told her about Zenobia’s visit the night before.
    Then she handed her Zenobia’s letter.
    Alicia read it, making little noises of astonishment as she went along. When she was done, she looked at Marilyn and said two things.
    The first was: “I believe you.”
    The second was: “Boy, are you in trouble.”
    She was going to say more, but the cloud that had covered the sun was joined by several others. The sky opened and a slashing rain began to pour down on them.
    Forgetting about the ghost, they ran for shelter.
    They were in Alicia’s bedroom, wearing bathrobes and toweling off their hair. Their clothes were down cellar in the dryer.
    â€œThe funeral is tomorrow,” said Alicia. “That doesn’t give you much time. Before you know it, Zenobia and the amulet will both be six feet under, and that’ll be the end of the problem. Of course, her ghost might still hang around and kind of bug you. But she’ll really have to stop harping on the amulet. I mean, gone is gone, and—”
    â€œAlicia!”
    â€œSorry. I thought a little humor might be appreciated about now.”
    â€œIt probably would have been,” said Marilyn. “If you had managed to come up with any.”
    â€œSo shoot me! I tend to talk when I get nervous.”
    â€œAlso when you’re calm. Besides, it’s four, not six.”
    â€œFour what?”
    â€œFour feet. That’s how deep they dig graves around here. Five at the most. And they have this big concrete thing called a vault they put the coffin in to keep the wood from rotting.”
    â€œYou amaze me. Whence comes this great knowledge of the funeral business?”
    â€œMy aunt just died, remember?”
    â€œMy uncle died last year, but I’m not ready to open a funeral parlor.”
    â€œWell, I’ve been paying close attention to the conversations my parents had with Mr. Flannigan. And I asked a few questions.”
    â€œMorbid curiosity,” said Alicia. “A bad sign. All right, since you’re such an expert, can you tell me why anyone should care if the wood rots once the coffin is