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it?” I asked warily, walking toward him, DJ hard on my heels.
    Brent pulled a few from the stack and thrust them at me. They were all photos of us.
    In the first, I was walking through an outdoor market, rubbing my arms against the cold humidity of the Brazilian winter. The next one had Brent at the beach on his lifeguard tower. The stack held a dozen others: me delivering herbs with Vovó, Brent and Steve picking up fast food, on and on. We hadn’t posed for any of them, and we certainly hadn’t been aware they were being taken. I held up one of Brent and me taken the day before I left for Brazil, staring at it as though I could force it to explain how it had been taken.
    “There’s something written on the back,” Brent said. He grabbed the photo and flipped it over. This was crazy. Things like this only happened in spy movies. I brought the picture closer and scanned the red-ink scrawl.
    They know who you are. They know what you can do. They want to own you.
    The blood drained from my face and I felt woozy. Brent gently pulled me into his embrace as he turned the picture back over and studied the shot. It all seemed so sinister.
    “Who are these people?” I demanded, turning to look back at DJ, but he was nowhere in sight. “Where did he go?”
    “No idea. Probably down the stairs.” Brent frowned and shoved the pictures back into the envelope. “It has to be a joke. A cruel, sick one.” He stuffed the envelope into his pocket. “We don’t want to leave these lying around, though. Let’s go.”
    “Wait,” I said, my gaze cutting towards the secret compartment.
    Brent’s eyes followed mine and he raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his face. “I thought you wanted the day off.”
    “Yeah, but this is what I’ve been training for. If I’m going to help this ghost, I have to see what she’s protecting.”
    Brent held my hand tightly as we walked back to the compartment. My fingers pressed the knot and the catch sprang loose. Brent eagerly leaned forward, peering into the dark recess, and then frowned.
    “What?” I asked, suddenly worried. “What’s in there?”
    “Nothing,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing for me to take a look.
    “What?” I took his spot. “I swear, there was something in there earlier.”
    “Well, whatever it was is gone now.”
    As soon as he said that, I knew what had happened. “DJ. He must have pocketed it when he was playing with the latch. He can’t have gotten far. We have to find him,” I said, taking Brent’s hand and pulling him towards the stairs. We’d only gone two steps when my skin broke out in goose pimples from a sudden drop in the temperature. Sophia materialized at the edge of the stairs, her eyes sparking with anger and her hands clenched in fists. She stalked toward us, each step dropping the temperature even further. I stopped so fast that Brent slammed into my back.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Sophia is blocking our path and she does not look happy.” I felt ashamed by how afraid I was, but the fury in her eyes dissolved all thoughts about my ability to help her.
    “So? She’s a ghost. They can’t touch the living, right?”
    “Uh-huh.” I still didn’t move.
    “And you’re wearing your necklace, right?” Brent whispered.
    “Yes.” I patted the flower pendant for reassurance.
    “Then let’s go.”
    He had a point. As long as I wore the Pankurem necklace, a ghost couldn’t touch me. Encased in its amber beads was a plant called Pankurem, which acted as a spirit— and body—guard. Not only did it protect the wearer—or the person who had ingested some—from a ghost that might want to harm them, but protected the body of whoever could project from having their body snatched while soulless. Sophia, no matter how terrifying she seemed, was just a single specter. I knew he was right, that she shouldn’t be able to touch me, but it was hard to walk toward a ghost who looked like she wanted to fillet me alive.
    I took a deep