Mothman's Curse by Christine Hayes

way too seriously. Hey, Eva, could I talk to my brother real quick? I just need a minute. We’ll be right out. I promise.”
    She stared me down, eyes searching my face for the truth. A truth I couldn’t bear to confess to anyone but Fox. She nodded and left us alone. As soon as the door swung shut, I lifted my foot and stepped back. The pin lay gleaming on the tile, whole and undamaged.
    â€œIs that—?” Fox crouched down for a closer look. “Oh, no. Josie—oh, man. Where did you get this? Why didn’t you tell me?”
    â€œI found it after Dad fell. It must have been in the safe with all those papers.” I hung my head. “I had a feeling something wasn’t right about it.”
    He reached to pick it up. “Don’t!” I shouted, diving for the pin myself. I stood and backed away, cradling the pin in my hands. “What if it curses you, too?”
    He straightened but kept his distance, his face wary. “Is that what Eva said?”
    â€œShe said whoever possesses it.”
    â€œWell, that’s specific. You believe her, then? You really think it’s cursed?”
    I looked down at my clasped hands, suddenly realizing where the pin had been. I made a face and hurried to the sink, running the pin and my hands under a stream of hot water. “Two minutes ago I tried to squash this into bits with my shoe, and there’s not a scratch on it,” I said. “Yeah. I’d say it’s cursed.” I shook the pin dry and put it back in my pocket, out of sight.
    Fox ran both hands through his hair. “So Mrs. Goodrich owned the pin. She and her husband tried to stop a major disaster in Clark, and failed. She got the pin from her sister, who died in a major disaster in Point Pleasant.”
    â€œAnd Point Pleasant is famous for its Mothman sightings,” I finished. “According to Eva, Mothman was seen in Clark, too, and this curse of his is linked to the terrible things that happened. Sound about right?”
    â€œSo is he causing the disasters? Trying to stop them?” Fox wondered. “Or something else?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said, shivering. My hair lay heavy and cold around my shoulders. The pin sat like a stone in my pocket. I folded my arms across my stomach. “What do I do?”
    â€œ We figure this out together,” he said. “And we stay here until we get the whole story from Eva.”
    I swallowed and nodded. “Thanks, Fox.” I peeked out the door. Eva stood, hands on hips, jaw set. “Seems like maybe she’s done talking, though.”
    We left the bathroom. I sat back down in the beautician’s chair like nothing had happened. Fox claimed the chair next to me. We all stared at each other in awkward silence. Finally, Fox said, “Please, Eva, you have to tell us more.”
    â€œI will do no such thing. I have said far too much already.”
    Eva stayed stubbornly silent as she finished up the haircut and dried my hair. Through the front window I watched a bank of black clouds swallow up the sky outside.
    Lightening flashed. Seconds later, a rumble of thunder followed, and then the skies opened.
    I groaned. A nice, three-mile bike ride in the rain.
    Eva patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I will take you home.”
    I nearly cried with relief.
    *   *   *
    We somehow squeezed our bikes into the trunk of Eva’s tiny car. The ride home was quiet, thick tension weaving around us like fog. Raindrops pelted the windshield and pounded the car roof, running down the windows in little rivers. It looked as though the car was weeping.
    Eva spoke only when we arrived, turning to face us over the driver’s seat.
    â€œYou have more questions,” she said. “I see them in your faces.”
    â€œJust one,” Fox said. “Did John and Nora live in Clark when they inherited the pin?”
    â€œYes,” she said. “Somehow they