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“‘Hey’? What sort of greeting is that?”

Jack resisted an eye roll. He and Mr. Drexler had smoothed things out after Jack’s misadventures last month, but that hadn’t made the man any less of a stickler for formalities.

“It’s sort of like ‘hello.’”

“Well, then, instead of like hello, let’s try for the real thing next time, shall we?”

“Sure. Can I help you with anything?” he said, wishing he could add, Like helping you out the door?

“I stopped by to tell you not to wait until the weekend to cut the Lodge’s lawn. I want everything top shape by Friday night.”

Mr. Drexler worked for the Ancient Septimus Fraternal Order that owned the Lodge in Old Town—his card said he was an “actuator”—and last month he’d hired Jack to cut the lawn and keep the grounds tidy. He paid well, but the job took hours.

“I’ll have to check with Mister Rosen to see if I can have the day off.”

“See that you do.”

“What’s going on? Special meeting?”

“That’s none of your—”

The door chimed yet again as a young woman stepped in carrying a baby wrapped in a blanket. She looked like she was in her early twenties—maybe just barely twenty—with long chestnut hair, pale skin, and gray eyes.

“Hello,” she said, smiling at Jack. “I was told I could find Walter Erskine here.”

Walt suddenly appeared from the back. “Whoa! Who told you that?”

She smiled at him. “An old woman in black. Oddly enough, she was wearing a scarf in this heat.”

That could only be Mrs. Clevenger. She always wore black and always had a scarf around her neck. Some people said that was because she was the reincarnation of Peggy Clevenger, the witch of the Pines, who was beheaded way back when. People said Peggy wandered the Pines, looking for her head, but others said she’d found it and wore the scarf to hide the old cut.

Jack didn’t buy any of that, but Mrs. Clevenger did seem to know an awful lot about the Pine Barrens and was often seen entering and leaving at odd hours, always accompanied by her three-legged dog.

The young woman was staring at Walt. “You’re him, aren’t you.”

Walt hesitated, looking like he would have denied it if no one around knew better. Finally he nodded. “Yes, I guess I am. Do I know you?”

Her gray eyes shone with welling tears. “My name is Miriam. We met, once, but I’m sure you don’t remember.”

“When was that?”

“Ten years ago this past June, when I was eleven. You were with a tent show that came through my hometown.”

Walt paled and glanced around. “I don’t know if that was me. Coulda been somebody else.”

She beamed at him. “Oh, it was you. Your hair was shorter, so was your beard, and it had no gray then, but I’d know you anywhere. I’ll never forget the man who healed me.”

“Healed?” Walt looked sick, like he wanted to be anywhere but here with this woman. “I … I don’t know what…”

She raised her free arm, the left. “See this? I didn’t have one—just a little flipper-type thing in its place. You touched me back then, and it started to change and grow. It took a whole year, but now look: It’s perfect.”

Jack stared at that raised arm, and yes, it looked perfect—as perfect as the silence in USED. Even Mr. Drexler seemed to be holding his breath.

Last month Jack had seen Walt touch someone with an ungloved hand. He still wasn’t sure what had happened then.

Finally Walt swallowed and said, “I think you’ve made a mistake.”

“Mistake?” Mr. Drexler said. “She’s deranged. Grow an arm? That’s a medical miracle. You’d be famous the world over, young lady!”

She shook her head slowly. “My hometown is small, high in the West Virginia hills. My folks thought it might be the work of the devil, so they hid me from the neighbors. And when I had my new arm, they sent me to live with kin on the other side of the state.”

“Why did you come looking for me?” Walt said.

She smiled again. “To thank you. And to ask you…” Her smile faded as she unwrapped the blanket from her sleeping baby to reveal the left shoulder. “… if you would do the same for my little girl.”

Jack couldn’t help gasping: The baby had no arm, just