Free Pretty Please (Nightmare Hall) by Diane Hoh

on to Vinnie’s with them.”
    “I don’t want to go to Vinnie’s with them.” He closed the car door and grabbed her hand. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.” Liar. She began walking across the Commons, huddling in her suede jacket for warmth. The mask was irritating her face pulling at her bandages. She couldn’t wait to get it off. Such a great costume…but such a bad night, after all.
    “At first I thought Tina’s fall was an accident,” Evan said. “But I’m not really sure. I know you want to believe that. I do, too, but I can’t.” They were almost to Lester. It looked warm and welcoming, lights peeking from many windows, dotting the old snow with streaks of yellow. “I’m just not sure, Jo.”
    “It was an accident! Quit trying to scare me.”
    “Jo!” He sounded honestly appalled. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.” He yanked on her hand, forcing her to stop. Then he pulled her around to face him. “It’s just that when I looked down into that cellar and thought I saw you lying there…” He stopped. He reached out, grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her close and kissed her.
    Afterward, she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, and said quietly, “Evan, it wasn’t me. I’m fine. I’m just fine.”
    “I know.”
    He kissed her again at the door to her room. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay? Want me to stay?”
    She shook her head. She wouldn’t mind being alone for a while. There were things to think about.
    The first thing she did after she locked the door was carefully pull the black latex mask off her face and head.
    She’d been right about her hair. It was squashed flatter than a pancake. But the relief of having the rubber off her face was wonderful.
    When she had changed into a long nightshirt and her robe, she sat on the bed, thinking about the party.
    Jo curled her legs up underneath her and leaned back against the wall. What if Tina’s fall wasn’t an accident? If that were true…then there was something else to think about. From the back, in that darkened kitchen, all anyone would have seen was a tall, thin figure dressed head to toe in black. Tina. But…the figure could as easily have been Johanna Donahue. From the back, in that tiny bit of light from the cellar, the two figures could have been interchangeable.
    Curling her fists into small, tight balls, Jo thought about the draped mirrors, the missing compact mirror, the hat with the veil, the cover-up cream.
    “I was being warned,” she murmured, her fists clenching and unclenching nervously. “I was being told to hide my face, not to show it in public. And I didn’t listen. I went to the party, anyway.”
    Could that have made someone angry enough to…punish her? Punish her for not listening? For ignoring the warnings? Punish her by pushing her down a flight of stairs?
    I don’t know anyone like that, Jo argued with herself. I don’t !
    You mean, a little voice in the back of her head admonished, that you don’t want to know anyone like that. But isn’t it obvious that you do ? Because if someone did push Tina down those stairs, they were attending the same party you were. So you know them. Whether you want to or not.
    Had the push been meant for her instead of Tina? Who knew she was dressed as Catwoman?
    Everyone. Everyone at the party knew. She hadn’t made any secret of who she was.
    Her head beginning to ache, Jo lay down on the bed, pulling her comforter up over her. So many questions, but only two were important: Had Tina been deliberately pushed down those stairs? And if she had, had she been mistaken for Jo Donahue?
    One thing was clear: if she was the one who was supposed to have fallen, then she would be stupid not to be afraid.
    She wasn’t stupid.
    So…was she afraid?
    Yes.
    She was scared to death.

Chapter 14
    J O AWOKE THE NEXT morning with a headache. She took an aspirin and called the hospital to find out about Tina.
    The nurse would tell her only that Tina Downs was in