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familiar. She wore
a long nightgown not unlike the one Peyton had on, though it
somehow looked more dated to her.
    Peyton watched as the girl ran up to the man
with the shotgun. Grabbing the barrel, she screamed at him, "No,
Daddy, don't!"
    The man tried to shake the gun barrel from
her as though she were nothing more than a gnat, his dark eyes
slits.
    "Get out of the way!" he ordered.
    "No, I won't, Daddy!" The girl spoke
defiantly. "Don't hurt Mama!"
    He dismissed her words and tried harder to
wrest the gun from her grasp. But the girl showed surprising
strength and would not relinquish her grip on the barrel easily nor
her determination to avert further bloodshed.
    Peyton shook as the man, in his attempt to
gain control of the shotgun, pulled the trigger. The girl backed
away in anguish, clutching the gaping wound in her stomach. Her
eyes were filled with hatred for the man she called Daddy.
    He glared at Peyton before turning to the
girl's mother. Lifting the shotgun, he aimed at the woman. As she
let out a piercing scream, Peyton knew it was up to her to do
something. But what?
    She sucked in a deep breath and hurled
herself at the man in desperation, but not before a shot went
off...
    * * *
    Peyton awoke with a start. Her heart was
pounding. She'd just had the same terrifying dream, but with an
added twist. This time a girl had joined the people in the bedroom.
It was the same girl Peyton had seen in the bay.
    The girl who had pulled Peyton under the
water and tried to drown her .
    Am I losing my mind ? Who are these
people anyway? Why am I dreaming about them? Does it mean anything
that the girl from the bay has somehow gotten into my
dreams?
    Peyton was at a loss. For all she knew, the
whole thing was just some cruel twist of her subconscious brought
on by moving to Shadow Bay, which she hadn't been crazy about.
    Or perhaps her stepfather suddenly becoming
a control freak had instigated the latest dream.
    But what if there was something more to it?
Maybe evil spirits really did haunt this creepy old house.
    Peyton wanted so badly to march to her
parents' room and tell them about the nightmare. But how could she?
Not after claiming to see the girl in the bay that no one could
corroborate. They would think she was crazy for sure and probably
force her to see a psychiatrist.
    Not that Peyton would have blamed them, all
things considered.
    Telling Bryant was also out of the question.
The last thing she needed was to scare him into thinking she was
mentally unbalanced. And, therefore, not girlfriend material.
    Peyton decided she would defy her newly
self-appointed slave-master-stepfather and sneak in a call to
Erica. She could talk to her about anything, even if it sounded off
the wall to everyone else.
    She snuck downstairs and grabbed her phone
from a cabinet in the study where Peyton had discovered Vance had
put it.
    Though she feared incurring Vance's wrath by
blatantly disregarding his order not to use the phone to contact
her friends from San Diego, Peyton could not keep this to herself.
She started to text Erica, but aborted it, feeling the urge to have
some FaceTime with her best friend to share her terrifying ordeal.
They would just have to keep their voices down.
    Erica popped on the screen and yawned. "Do
you know what time it is?"
    Peyton knew there was a two-hour time
difference between Minnesota and California. Not that it had ever
stopped them before from texting or talking at all hours of the
night.
    "Sorry, but this was the best time to talk,"
Peyton said apologetically. "Vance has gotten all weird and doesn't
want me to use my phone to talk to you."
    Erica raised her brow. "You're kidding,
right?"
    "I wish." Peyton lowered her voice. "I don't
know what his problem is. Maybe it has something to do with this
house. I just had a very scary dream..."
    "Really? What happened?"
    Peyton recounted the nightmare in detail.
"That girl from the bay was in the dream," she said fretfully. "And
she was shot by her