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will convince you.” The thin strips of light between the cracks danced for a moment then darkened as her great-aunt moved away from the door with the lantern.
    â€œWait!” Meg yelled.
    â€œ Bonsoir , Marguerite,” Tante Perle called out in the distance.
    â€œOpen—this—door!” Meg demanded, pounding and kicking at the entry.
    A cold fear gripped Meg and sent a shudder through her body. Was Tante Perle really going to just leave her there?
    Meg sat hard upon the stone steps and buried her face in her hands.

Chapter 8

    T HE BLACKNESS OF THE CELLAR WAS IMPENETRABLE . Slits of light once visible through the slats of the cellar door were long gone. Tante Perle hadn’t returned. Meg was trapped.
    The oyster shell, the fake tears; it had all been a trick! Meg pulled the shell out of her apron pocket and felt the ridges between her fingers in the darkness.
    She told me if we ever found the other half, we’d be friends forever.
    Yeah, right! Meg bet Tante Perle had just grabbed the oyster shell off the beach along with the rest of the junk in that shack of hers upstairs.
    Meg strained to listen for something, anything that could tell her she was not alone. The only sound was the drone of the ocean in the distance. If Tante Perle was back in her shack, she was being quiet about it. Why had her great-aunt abandoned her like this? What could she be thinking?
    I’m sure a night in the cellar will convince you.
    Convince Meg of what? That Tante Perle was a raving lunatic? There was no doubt in Meg’s mind about that now. And if Nève was there, she would understand why Meg had joined in with Mireille earlier. Tante Perle really was in her own imaginary world.
    The closed dark space played on Meg’s senses. Just when she thought she could make out her surroundings, her eyes tricked her with a blink. Her backside grew numb on the hard stone steps. She had no idea how long she’d been there already but her mom should have been by to look for her by now.
    A scurrying noise scratched along the invisible floor at Meg’s feet. She recoiled against the cool stone wall of the stairwell and clutched the oyster shell between her fingers. The thought of being trapped there any longer shot adrenaline through her veins. She couldn’t wait a minute longer. She had to find a way out.
    Her legs tingled as she straightened to stand.
    Thwack!
    A blow rang through Meg’s skull as her head met with something solid. Red, white, and blue pinpoints of light danced in the darkness before her. She reached out to steady herself, nearly dropping the shell, desperate to stop the spinning sensation that overcame her.
    The pricks of coloured light overwhelmed Meg’s vision. She tried to blink the lights away as she slipped the shell back in her pocket. One by one they dissolved into the darkness, taking the dizziness along with them. But in that same moment, the air thinned and soured. Strange muffled sounds worked through Meg’s senses.
    Voices? Had someone come to rescue her at last?
    â€œ Assis-toi ,” a woman’s voice said in the darkness. Meg froze. She must have cracked her head harder than she thought.
    â€œListen to her. Sit and be quiet. Otherwise we will never get out of here.” Meg wilted at the second voice. She grabbed out into the blackness as her knees buckled. An arm braced her fall and helped her to sit on the hard floor.
    â€œWho are you?” Meg demanded into the darkness. “How long have you been in the cellar? Did she trick you too?” Meg’s voice cracked with confusion as she tried to comprehend what was happening.
    â€œMarguerite,” said an invisible voice.
    â€œDon’t call me that!” Meg yelled. How could they tell who she was? The darkness was complete.
    â€œYou’ve given yourself quite a blow. We’re not in a cellar, we’re on a ship. Don’t you remember?” a kind voice asked.
    A ship?
    A whirr of