Haunting of Lily Frost by Nova Weetman Page B

black. I try the door handle and it turns, but the door won’t open. I shake it, feeling slightly panicked. But the door’s locked from the outside. There must be a key, but there wasn’t one when I came up here, so who’s locked me in?
    I’m trying hard not to be scared, but doing a hopeless job. I’m losing it. The house that picked my parents. The room that sort of picked me. And now all these signs, and the feeling that there’s something going on. Where’s Dad? He’s got to come looking for me eventually.
    Maybe he couldn’t hear me before, so I start yelling even louder. I even jump up and down on the floorboards but being two floors up makes it hard for him to hear.
    â€˜Dad! Dad, I’m upstairs. Dad!’
    Then footsteps outside the door. The handle turns wildly. My heart’s racing so fast, I’m going to faint.
    â€˜Lil, honey, you in there?’
    It’s him. Thank God. I just want to rush out and give him the biggest hug. ‘Dad, the door’s stuck.’
    Dad’s so big, if he keeps banging like that on the door he’ll probably smash it down, and the last thing I want is my family being able to come in whenever they like because I don’t have a door.
    â€˜Lil, try and open it from your side.’
    As soon as I turn the handle, the door opens, and Dad lurches into the room just like I did the first time. But he doesn’t faint. He doesn’t hit the floor. He sort of collects himself on the way, does a fancy little jump and he’s standing right next to me, like a crazed superhero.
    â€˜But it was – locked. I’m sure of it.’ I must sound dazed.
    â€˜It’s just an old door. I guess it gets stuck sometimes.’
    â€˜Yeah. Maybe.’
    â€˜You all right?’
    â€˜As all right as I can be in this hole of a town.’
    He looks down at me intensely as if something is way off normal. Even when I’m grown up he’ll still look down at me. He’s huge. ‘What are you doing up here anyway?’
    Despite everything weird that happens in this room, I know I’m meant to be here. Even if I’m terrified.
    â€˜Finding a bedroom.’
    He looks around now, taking in the darkness, the sloping ceiling, the small rickety window, and he shakes his head. ‘I don’t think so, Lil.’
    â€˜I do.’
    â€˜Your mother won’t like it.’
    â€˜Too bad. You guys told me to pick a room. And I have.’
    â€˜But it’s – it’s creepy.’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    He shrugs like he often does when he disagrees with me, because he doesn’t really like to fight.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Lil. I know you didn’t want to move. But it’ll be good here, I promise.’
    I want to push a bit harder, make him cough up for a new bike or a tablet. Play the guilt card for as long as I can, but he looks so genuine that I can’t. So I settle for trying to dodge doing any work and enlisting him to do it instead.
    â€˜Can you help me move my stuff up?’
    â€˜Sure, honey.’
    I want to hug him for letting me have my way. But I haven’t cuddled my parents for a year or so. Sometimes I still kiss them. Like when I left for camp over summer. But I only really hug Ruby. I can tell he’s disappointed that I don’t hug him and after shifting around uncomfortably on his feet for a minute, he walks out. It feels like the conversation isn’t finished. So I run after him, wanting to tell him about the room, all its secrets and weird energy. But he’s already down the stairs, so the moment’s gone and it’s too late to say anything.
    Downstairs, Mum’s still bossing the removalists around. She’s changed her mind three times about where the couch should go, and made them shift it from one spot to another, so she can see what it looks like. I wonder if they’re going to charge her extra. I would.
    â€˜What do you think, Lil?