Free Took by Mary Downing Hahn

it.”
    â€œSuppose I did?” Erica’s pale face looked spooky in the dim light, her eyes too big for her face and shadowed with dark circles.
    â€œWhat did you see?” I stood over her. “I want to know!”
    â€œIt’s a secret. I made a promise, I—” She was crying now.
    Angry and frustrated by her silent, secret ways, I pulled her to her feet and shook her. Not hard, just a little. “I’m serious. There’s something going on, and I need to know what it is.”
    â€œLet me go, let me go!” Erica struggled to get away. It was just like the day before, and I was fed up.
    â€œTell me!” I shouted. “Tell me the truth, you little liar!” I let go of her and shoved her so hard she fell on her back in the leaves.
    Scrambling to her feet, she glared at me like a wild thing. Her hair hung in her face; leaves clung to her jacket. “I hate you, Daniel! No matter what you do, you can’t make me tell. Never never never!”
    She spun around and dashed into the woods.
    â€œCome back here!” I yelled.
    I ran after her, slipping and sliding on fallen leaves, tripping on roots hidden beneath the leaves. A branch she’d brushed aside flew back and hit my eye. Its thorns clawed my face.
    Smarting from pain, I shouted, “Go on, then, stupid! Run. You’ll be sorry if you get lost and it’s dark and cold and . . .” I stopped yelling because I couldn’t hear her crashing through the bushes anymore.
    Fine
, I thought.
I brought her home yesterday. I’m not doing it again. Let her find her own way back, maybe it’ll teach her a lesson.
    I turned away and followed the path back to the house. It was practically dark, and a cold wind hissed through the dry weeds. Erica wouldn’t stay long in the woods. She probably knew a shortcut. When I got home, she’d be there, sitting on the couch, smirking because she’d beaten me. Mom would never know I’d let my sister run off into the woods without me.

The Taking
    The old woman returns to the clearing and waits for Erica and her hateful brother. She leaves the dolly hidden in the woods near her cabin. She has another use for it.
    She hears them coming before she sees them. Their voices are loud and angry.
    The hateful brother can’t believe the doll is gone, but Erica knows who took it.
That girl,
she tells him.
The one who lives with her auntie on the tippity top of a hill.
They fight, and the hateful brother pushes his sister. She falls backward into the leaves. Now she knows he hates her. She must find the cabin and the girl.
    She scrambles to her feet and runs away from him. The old woman makes sure he gives up and goes home.
    She lets Erica run until she’s too tired to go farther. She watches Erica sink down on the ground and cry. She waits until the trees thicken with shadows. The wind blows harder, its breath as cold as death. Bloody Bones snuffles and snorts in the dead leaves, looking for grubs or voles, anything juicy or crunchy.
    Erica hears him coming closer, step by shuffling step. She whimpers and cries and curls herself into a ball.
    When the old woman is sure that Erica cannot run or put up a fight, she steps out of the woods in her own shape. Her ragged cloak billows around her gnarled body. Strands of white hair stream across her bony face. She stands over Erica, leaning on her staff, older than old, crueler than cruel, as wicked as the devil hisself.
    â€œAir-ric-cah,” she croons. “Air-ric-cah, come to Auntie.”
    Erica looks up. The old woman takes her arm and pulls her roughly to her feet. “You belong to me now. No one wants you but me, no one loves you but me. They’ve forgot all about you, and you’ve forgot all about them.”
    Smiling to herself, the old woman drags Erica through the woods to her cabin. She has what she wants.

Nine
    When I slammed into the kitchen, Erica wasn’t there. I called out,