Free The Snow by Caroline B. Cooney

get that Murderer.” She lifted her chin, staring into Mr. Shevvington’s eyes, blue tonight. But Mr. Shevvington looked youthful and innocent, as if all he had in mind was a silly game in a silly house with silly girls.
    But Mrs. Shevvington’s lips curled, like an animal preparing to eat raw meat. It’s her, Christina thought. She’s the dangerous one.
    Mr. Shevvington explained the complex rules of Murder. They had to keep on the move, avoid being killed, and yet find out who the killer was. They had to stay with their partners. They could not get in large groups.
    Mr. Shevvington put a cassette into the stereo and flipped the switch, which played the music in every room. The slithering strings of violins trembled in the air like old ghosts.
    Mrs. Shevvington turned out the lights.
    The guests scattered through the house, banging their shins on furniture. The stairs creaked as they dashed up and down. Crazy giggles ricocheted like bullets.
    In the dark, Christina could watch nobody. Katy held so tight to her hand Christina thought her bones might break.
    Wherever it would happen, it would happen up high in the mansion. So Christina dragged Katy up the first flight of stairs and then up the second. “I don’t wanna be up here,” Katy wailed. “It’s too scary up here.”
    “Sssssshhh,” Christina said.
    “Let’s hide under the dining-room table, Chrissie,” Katy whispered.
    “Shut up,” Christina hissed.
    The house began to fill with screams as heavy hands and cold fingers unexpectedly touched a player in the dark.
    Then the girls began screaming just for the fun of it. Somebody turned the eerie violins up higher.
    Anya began screaming for real: the ghastly high scream Christina remembered so well. Once, screaming like that, Anya had tried to step out the third-floor window, seeing fire where there was only fog.
    Anya screamed like an animal. Christina imagined Anya frozen with fear in the dark. Was Anya to be the victim, not Dolly? Had the Shevvingtons seen Anya’s improvement after all? Was playing with Dolly just intended to confuse Christina?
    “ Chrissie! Chrissie! Chrissie, where are you? ” screamed Anya.
    Once Anya’s fears had pulled her to the edge of the cliffs. Now — during the slumber party — was something pushing her instead?
    “I’m coming, Anya!” She abandoned Katy, racing in the blackness down the stairs. “Stand still, Anya, so I can find you. It’s all right, it’s just a game; don’t be afraid.”
    “Christina, shut up!” Gretch yelled from some other location. “You’re ruining the game. Let her scream. It’s wonderful. She has the best scream of all.”
    Christina felt her way into the kitchen, to the source of the screams. “I’m here, Anya.” Christina edged forward. A white splotch appeared in the dark. Anya was only inches away. Christina reached for the lace trim on the apron.
    Too late, Christina heard the giggle.
    She caught desperately at the wall, at chairs, at anything — but there was nothing to hold.
    The giggle turned into a groan.
    The white vanished. The dark turned into a black hole.
    And it was Christina who fell. Down the cellar stairs. Hitting the steps, hitting the rail, hitting the stone floor.
    Down into the waiting giggle.

Chapter 11
    M ORNING SUN GLITTERED ON new-fallen snow.
    The snow had blown into wonderful drifts, like whorls on top of a lemon meringue pie.
    Christina’s knees hurt. She stumbled to school.
    Jonah came running to meet her. “What happened, Christina?” he asked. “I know Mondays are pretty bad — but limping?”
    Gretch and Vicki bounded up. “We had the best slumber party ever!” cried Gretch. “They live in the most wonderful house. You should just see all the treasures. Mr. and Mrs. Shevvington are so terrific to those island children. We should all be so lucky. We had the best food and the best fun. I got to sleep in a bed with its own little stepstool because the mattress was so high: me and Dolly and