Elizabeth was still on the computer when I walked up to her with a white jewelry box.
“Get lost," she said.
"But I thought you might like to see what I found."
She looked up. "You found a necklace? Let me see it. Let me see it.”
I took off the lid and wiggled my finger.
Elizabeth screamed so loud I thought the neighbors would call 911.
"Mmm. Road kill," I said, licking the blood off my finger.
"You pig! You pig! You're so gross!" She ran to the bathroom and I could hear her throwing up.
My plan worked perfectly. Elizabeth really thought that it was someone's finger I had found along the road. But it was just my finger smothered in ketchup. I had cut holes in the bottom of the jewelry box and cotton liner, poked my finger through the holes and rested it on the cotton liner.
"What's wrong, Elizabeth?" Mom yelled, running up the basement steps.
Uh-oh. Time to bolt.
"It's Mags. She found a finger on the road and has it in a jewelry box. There's blood all over it."
"Margaret Mary," Mom called.
I came downstairs all cleaned up.
"What's this about a finger in a box?"
"Don’t know what she’s talking about. I think Lizzy's reading too many horror novels.”
Elizabeth glared at me. "I saw it. It was in a necklace box."
I looked at Mom, shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.
"Maybe Mags is right," Mom said. "Maybe you are reading too many horror novels. I’m not sure what’s up with you two, but it’s over. Dinner’s ready.”
I followed Elizabeth to the table.
"I'll get you back," she whispered. "You never know what can happen in a cemetery at night."
"Yeah," I said. "There are lots of dead fingers there, Lizzy. Maybe a few of them will grab you."