“Do you even know what’s up in the attic?” Mother asked as they made their way up the carpeted stairs to their house’s second floor.

“Do you?” Jeremy replied.

“Haven’t been up here in at least a decade, not since I inherited this house from your grandparents. For all I know, there could easily be half a dozen skeletons up there.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. Of course, there weren't skeletons in the attic. Mother was probably trying to scare him. Whenever he volunteered to ‘help’ her, he usually made an even bigger mess.

“How do we get up into the attic?” Jeremy inquired as he followed his mother into her and his father’s bedroom, into their big closet. His mother winked and pulled a tiny string attached to the ceiling that Jeremy had never noticed before. Fascinated, he watched as a part of the ceiling gave way and revealed a dusty ladder. Mother pulled it down to the ground with ease and began climbing up.

“Are you coming, or what?” Mother asked, peering at Jeremy over her shoulder.

“YEAH!” Jeremy exclaimed, scrambling up the stairs behind his mother, into the dusty, dark attic. It was tall enough for Jeremy to comfortably stand in, but his mother had to crouch as she tiptoed over to a tiny, dust-covered window. It squeaked loudly as she opened it, offering little light to the space.

“All right, you start over there,” Mother commanded, pointing at a corner where Jeremy was almost certain he could see the dust swirling, like a mini tornado.

“Sure,” Jeremy shrugged, kneeling on the creaky floorboards. He examined the first object, a big, intricately carved chest. Giddy with excitement, he heaved the chest open.

The moment he saw what the chest contained, he wished he’d never opened it...but it was too late now.

Because in that chest?

Exactly a half dozen perfectly preserved skeletons.