Emma rode her bike alone to Mrs. Wesley's place, excited to finally play through an entire Beethoven piece. She'd been practicing it for a few weeks now and today was the day she'd finally play the whole thing. She couldn't wait to be able to show her dad, despite how uncomfortable she knew it made him. When she reached the old house, Mrs. Wesley was sitting on the front porch, enjoying a glass of lemonade.

Mrs. Wesley greeted her with a smile and an offering of a cold drink, which Emma didn't say no to. Mrs. Wesley always had something delicious to offer her favorite student. The two went inside and Emma began her practice as she waited for the old woman to bring her snacks.

Emma was making great progress through Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, only missing a key here and there, but breezing through as Wesley listened closely.

Even though Emma was deaf, music was one thing she could always enjoy. If she couldn't hear it, she could feel it. That's what made her love it so much.

"Let's take a break," said Mrs. Wesley suddenly after only an hour of playing. "I need to go and check something. Be right back." She took off out of sight, leaving Emma on her own in Wesley's gigantic living room.

Emma took a drink from her lemonade and sat quietly, waiting for her teacher to come back. Mrs. Wesley got around slowly, so be right back would be at least ten or fifteen minutes. She had a husband, but he was hardly home as he worked long hours at a carpentry store he owned downtown. He had the means to retire decades ago, he just loved working. He was really a big fan of Emma's dad.

"Emma?" a voice called, making Emma choke on her drink. The voice was so familiar, one she hadn't heard in a very long time. She almost thought she'd imagined it when it called again, "Emma!"

"Mom?" Emma could almost cry. She stood up from the piano bench and made her way into the hall, where it sounded like the voice was calling from. "Mom!" All logical thinking was out the window as Emma desperately searched for her mother.

"Emma, down here!" Emma turned toward a door, which led down into the cellar. She cautiously opened the door and made her way down the creepy stairs. The cellar was damp and musty and smelled like old people. The shelves were lined with jars of homemade jams, which were surely out of date. The rest of the cellar was silent, except for a dripping sound.

"Mom?" Emma's voice came out shaky, like she didn't quite trust herself to speak.

She could faintly hear the sound of someone breathing and Emma had to adjust the volume on her hearing aid. As she was messing with it, a loud echoing boom filled the entire room, making Emma jump and drop her device for the second time. The aid bounced and disappeared under the stairs.

"Fuck," she hissed and she knelt down to try and find it. Without a light, Emma couldn't see a thing. Without her hearing aid, she couldn't hear the figure inching closer to her.

Suddenly, a rotting hand reached out from the darkness of the stairs and grabbed Emma around the arm. Emma screamed and fell back.

"Emma," said the thing as it dragged itself out of the shadows. The young girl scrambled backwards, trying hard to get away from it. She wasn't even sure how she could possibly be hearing what it was saying. "Emma you did this. You killed me. You killed your sister. If it hadn't been for you—"

"NO!" she screamed and kicked the thing in the face. Emma jumped to her feet and ran quickly up the stairs, not even seeing the clown standing in the corner. She ran right past Mrs. Wesley and flung herself out of the house and grabbed up her bike.

Emma cried the whole way home. There was no way she saw what she did. But she had. Emma was petrified. Emma had always blamed herself for the accident. Jesse did not. But Jesse didn't know what had happened that fateful night...

It was a twenty minute bike ride home. By the time she got there, her dad was already there, waiting on the porch for her. Mrs. Wesley must have called him and told him she'd taken off.

Jesse started yelling, but Emma couldn't hear him or even explain herself.

Aggressively, Emma started signing to her father that she'd lost her hearing aid. If Jesse wasn't angry before, he was now. He led Emma inside and pulled her spare out of the drawer of the bathroom vanity. She quickly put it in and Jesse continued yelling.

"Dad!" she tried yelling over him.

"You just left, Emma! You didn't tell Mrs. Wesley where you were going. You could have been the next missing kid for all we knew!"

Emma knew Jesse was just being his overprotective self, but it was constantly frustrating that he seemed to think she was just going to disappear. In Jesse's defense, Emma was the only person he had. He'd have been absolutely wrecked with heartache if something had happened to Emma.

Jesse had to constantly drill this into Emma's head, especially because she was so reckless sometimes. If her head wasn't attached at the neck, she'd have probably lost it.

"You can't just run off without telling someone where you're going! Am I going to have to lock you inside all summer?" Jesse said exasperatedly.

"No, Dad," said Emma finally. "I'm sorry. I just got spooked. It's not even a big deal. I shouldn't have run out like that."

Jesse sighed. "Please just be careful. It's hard enough to want to let you outside. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I know," said Emma. "I promise I won't do it again."

"We're gonna have to start doing check-ins again."

"Dad," Emma whined. Jesse hadn't made her do check-ins in a long time. "Please. I just want to have a good summer. I'm going to be careful. I really will."

Jesse shook his head. "Just so I have a clear conscience. I need you to check in with me at least twice throughout the day. Once before you leave and preferably another time when you're out."

"I already have a seven o'clock curfew—"

"You either do check-ins, or you're not to leave the house at all."

"Are you seriously giving me an ultimatum?" Emma crossed her arms in a fashion similar to how her mother would have and Jesse had to turn away from her just to keep his composure.

"Promise me," he demanded.

"Okay," said Emma at once, inching away from her dad. "I promise. I will check in with you."

"If I'm not at the station, then have one of the other officers page me on the scanner."

"Okay."

"Good. Now, go on up to bed."

Emma turned away from Jesse and made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She'd wanted so bad to tell her father what she'd seen and heard, but she knew he wouldn't have believed her. Maybe she had just imagined it...

Emma closed her blinds and got ready for bed, but she laid awake for hours with images of that nasty, rotting arm grabbing her. What got her the most was the pearl bracelet it had been wearing.

Her mom had been buried in the same exact one.