Morning made River Street look friendly again. Sunlight warmed the roofs. A dog was sleeping in a doorway. A delivery man was pushing a cart full of bread to the bakery. Emma and Tom reached the old house and stopped. The open window was still there, and the white curtain moved like a slow wave. Tom put his hand on the gate. It creaked loudly when he pushed it. He pulled his hand back. “Maybe we should leave. Grandma will worry if we do something dangerous.” Emma thought of the postcard with the star, the moving shadow, and the scraping sound. “If someone needs help, we should know,” she said. “We will be careful.” They stepped into the garden. The wet grass brushed their legs. On the muddy path, Emma saw small footprints. They were lighter than an adult’s and…