I woke up to feel the rays of sunlight on my face. My head ached from what I was resting on, and my entire body itched. I forgot where I was for a moment. I rolled over with a groan, only to let out a shriek as I remembered. I almost tumbled out of the loft, before Louisa grabbed me. I tightly gripped her arms.

"Good, you're finally awake," Louisa said. She was standing on the ground below me. "I've been trying to wake you, but you must sleep well. I was about to leave without you."

"I definitely didn't," I groaned, letting go of Louisa and pulling myself up. The events of last night came flooding back. "Where are we going?"

"To feed the chickens, remember?" Louisa said. "Come on, before the horses or Aidan wakes up."

I climbed down from the loft, my legs trembling. Despite what I thought, it was a lot less comfortable than sleeping in the attic. My entire body ached. Louisa grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. I passed the stalls, staring at some of the horses that had woken. I could hear sounds from further ahead. Louisa paused as she caught sight of Nadia sweeping the hay.

Nadia glanced up at us in surprise. "What are you two doing in here?"

"I-I'm sorry," Louisa apologized. "We just woke up early, and Fern said she wanted to come with me…"

"No, I didn't," I protested. "You made me…"

"Don't try to make excuses," Nadia interrupted. "You were sleeping in the loft again, weren't you?"

Louisa lowered her head. "Maybe."

"I didn't want to," I added. "Louisa told me…"

I trailed off as she glared at me. "Please don't tell anyone, Nadia," Louisa pleaded. "We weren't doing any harm. We just, uh, got locked out from the farmhouse."

"And what were you doing up at night?" Nadia demanded.

"It was my fault," I admitted. "I wandered out…"

"No, it was mine," Louisa interrupted. "I dragged Fern outside, and I made her sleep in here. She wanted to go back to the farmhouse." I stared at her in surprise.

Nadia stared at us. "Alright, I won't tell," she agreed. "But this better not happen again. You wouldn't want to displease your parents, would you?"

"Oh, thank you, Nadia," Louisa said gratefully. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

"You're just lucky you ran into me and not Aidan," Nadia quipped. "He's always trying to get into your parents' good books."

"That's what we were planning, actually," Louisa admitted. "We were just going to head to the chicken coop to collect the eggs. You know, so they'd be happy with us."

Nadia laughed. "Aidan and I used to do that all the time at the circus. Whenever we displeased the ringmaster, we'd try sucking up to him the next day. At least, I would. Aidan was too hot-tempered to try that for long. But now that he's returned to the farm, he does. I guess he realized how lucky we were to be here."

"I bet you're glad to be away from there," I remarked. "What did you do?"

"We were acrobats," Nadia explained. "We worked on a trapeze together. It's probably a good thing we don't anymore. More than once, Aidan would push me off. Then again, I did the same to him…"

"Come on, Fern," Louisa insisted. "We have to get there as soon as possible."

I followed Louisa to the chicken coop. To my relief, all the chickens were all locked inside. But I stayed behind, letting Louisa do all of the work. I was afraid of messing up, almost as much as I was of the chickens.

Louisa turned to me while pouring the feed into the cages. "Come on, Fern. You could at least help me."

"So I can lose another chicken?" I quipped.

"Don't worry. You won't now that I'm here," Louisa assured. "I shouldn't have left you."

But I still refused to help, watching Louisa carefully. I didn't know how she did it. When she had finished and tightly locked the cages, her parents hadn't arrived.

"We must've woken up early," Louisa remarked. "Come on, let's milk the cows as well. You could at least help me with that. You didn't let the cow loose, did you? Then again, I suppose it'd be hard to. She's huge."

I reluctantly followed her to the cowshed, even though I wasn't looking forward to seeing the cow. We passed the cornfields on the way. I tried not to stare at them, but I couldn't help it. I half expected them all to be burned away after last night, but the cornstalks were as wide and tall as before, surrounding the fields and pastures. I couldn't help staring, as if trying to find any signs of what had happened last night. Then I jumped out of my skin as I noticed something. It was the scarecrow.

I stepped closer, staring in shock. I was sure it couldn't be there, but it was. The scarecrow stood at the edge of the cornfield, the entire body drooping as if it was leaning over. It did seem more ragged and worn than before, but it was to begin with, so it was hard to tell. To my relief, I couldn't see the face. The head was turned in another direction, as if glancing that way. One of the sleeves was raised in the same direction as if pointing at something with the straw hands. The other sleeve drooped limply by its side. I barely had time to process how this could be when there wasn't any wind in the field. I was more shocked that the scarecrow was there at all. But the more I observed it, I realized it was in a different position as well. It was much closer, instead of far out in the cornfield as well. It wasn't turned away or pointing at anything last time either.

"Fern, hurry up!" Louisa ran over and grabbed my arm.

I tried to show her the scarecrow, but she pulled me to the cowshed. I backed away from the huge cow while Louisa approached. She stared back at me from behind the gates, her large head nodding. Louisa reached out her hand and gently stroked the cow. Then she grabbed a metal bucket and placed it under. Like before, I only watched as she leaned over to milk her. I didn't know how she could do it, but she had a lot of practice.

Louisa glanced up at me. "Come on, Fern, you try. It's not as gross as it looks, once you get used to it. All of the milk you drink comes from her. Isn't she a beauty?"

I backed away. "I don't think I should. I wouldn't want to hurt her."

"You wouldn't," Louisa assured. "You just have to be very gentle. It isn't that hard. Dad uses machines, but he does it by hand as well."

I reluctantly approached Louisa, watching as she squirted the milk into the bucket. "Can I have some when you're done?" I asked, realizing how thirsty it was. I thought I had swallowed some hay while sleeping in the barn.

"Oh, no. You can't have it now," Louisa said, stepping away. "You'd get sick from drinking it. It needs to be cleaned and sterilized."

I glanced into the bucket and realized she was right. It was half filled with thick milk, but it didn't look appetizing in the slightest.

Just then, I heard yells in the distance. "Louisa! Louisa!"

Louisa turned to face her parents as they approached. I backed away, trying to hide behind the shed. They had furious looks on their faces again. Janet was dragging something behind her.

"Oh, hey!" Louisa called. "I got up early, and figured I might as well milk the cow. I collected the eggs as well. Is that okay? Oh, Fern decided to tag along. But she didn't help much."

"Oh, is that what you were doing?" Peter scoffed. "Are you sure you weren't busy doing something else?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Louisa demanded. I froze, thinking they'd noticed the scarecrow was in a different position.

"Come see," Janet suggested.

"What is it?" Louisa asked. "Is… is it the scarecrow?"

"Huh? What about the scarecrow?" Peter asked. "It's about something else."

"Oh, good," Louisa said, relieved. "I mean, not good. I'll see what it's about."

I groaned. Something always seemed to be going on in the farm. Louisa's parents didn't seem to notice me. They were too busy glaring at her. I was relieved not to be blamed for once, but maybe I would be for whatever had happened. Maybe Nadia had told on us after all.

"Just wait here, Fern," Louisa muttered to me. "I'll be back as soon as I see what they want."

I reluctantly watched as they left. I jumped as the cow let out a loud moo. She turned her head, seeming to stare at me. I backed away, almost bumping into the bucket. I quickly stepped away, slightly afraid. The cow was even larger than the biggest horses. I turned and headed back to the cornfields.

I shielded my eyes as I observed the fields, trying to catch sight of the scarecrow. The stalks glistened under the early morning sunlight. I thought about how easy it was to get lost in there. I couldn't see the scarecrow anywhere. I figured he might be somewhere else. There were cornfields surrounding most of the farm.

I jumped as I heard the cow let out another long moo. She sounded almost scared. I was about to turn to see what it was when I felt something wet under me. I glanced down to see something white spilling over the ground. As I turned around, I jumped in surprise as I caught sight of the bucket of milk in the distance. The milk spilled out of it and sloshed over the ground. I watched for a moment as the trail of milk mixed with the dirt. Then I heard Louisa calling to me.

"Fern! Didn't I tell you to watch the cows?"

I stepped away from the spilled milk and headed over to Louisa. She kept yelling at me, clearly trying to take the attention off herself while her parents yelled at her.

"Sorry, Louisa," I apologized.

"And now you've spilled the milk everywhere," Louisa exclaimed. "It isn't easy milking the cow, you know."

"What? But you said it was," I reminded.

Peter narrowed his eyes at Louisa. "You spilled the milk?"

"No, Fern did," Louisa insisted. "At least, she must have. I got the milk, but she wouldn't help me. Then I left her alone…"

"I didn't!" I protested.

"Stop arguing. The cow must've kicked it over, like she does sometimes," Janet added.

"Fern should've been watching her," Louisa accused. I glared at her.

"Stop it, Louisa. We have more important things to focus on," Janet scolded. Then she smiled. "Besides, didn't you ever hear that there's no use crying over spilled milk?"

"That's right," Peter added. "Like all of the jack-o-lanterns you destroyed."

"I didn't!" Louisa protested. "Why would I do that?"

As I glanced down, I noticed a squashed pumpkin on the ground for the first time, the pulpy orange pieces smashed across the ground.

"That's sick," I groaned, stepping back.

"I know," Louisa agreed. "You should've seen the rest of them. They were all smashed to pieces."

"But none of them ever were before," Peter reminded. "No matter what the weather, they stayed intact. Somebody had to have squashed them."

"Well, it wasn't me," Louisa insisted. "I would never do that."

"You always say you hate having them around," Peter reminded.

"I don't," Louisa protested. "I just don't think we need so many all around the farm. They always get in the way. But I wouldn't destroy them! I know how important they are for us."

"Yes, you do," Janet agreed. "It's just a good thing we didn't add any fire." I winced, remembering the scarecrow that had been burned by the jack-o-lantern.

"Well, somebody did it," Peter insisted. "And they were fine yesterday. It must've been last night, or early this morning."

"But why would anyone do that?" Louisa demanded. "Unless they didn't understand how important they were." She glanced at me, and I backed away. Did she really think I had done it?

"The twins don't seem to," Janet added. "Maybe it was one of them."

"Yeah, maybe," Louisa agreed. "Maybe it was Aidan. He's always flying into rages. He could've thrown them all in anger."

"You know, you might be right," Peter admitted. "I'll speak to them. I'm sorry if it sounded like I blamed you, Louisa. I'm just on edge about such a thing. You were probably right. We shouldn't have used so many of the pumpkins. Now we don't have any more to make more jack-o-lanterns."

"It's just a good thing not all of them were destroyed," Janet added. "We should put the others somewhere safe."

I watched as they left. Then Louisa turned to me, narrowing her eyes.

"What?" I demanded. "Do you seriously think I'd do that?"

"I know you took the jack-o-lantern in the house," Louisa reminded. "And you wouldn't want my parents to find out about that, would you? Maybe you were trying to distract them before they found out. Besides, you're right next to one of them." She gestured to the crushed pumpkin next to me.

"I didn't even notice that was there," I insisted. "I was too focused on the milk you spilled."

"That I spilled?" Louisa demanded. "I wasn't anywhere near the bucket, and neither was the cow. You're the only one who could've spilled it."

"Well, I didn't," I insisted.

"You were saying you wanted to drink it," Louisa reminded. "I'd understand if it was an accident, and I wouldn't even tell my parents, but…"

"That doesn't mean I'd actually try to!" I exclaimed.

Louisa narrowed her eyes. "Well, if you won't admit to that, then maybe you wouldn't admit to smashing the pumpkins either."

"It's probably one of the farmhands, like you said," I suggested.

Louisa froze. "You don't think Nadia will tell on us, will she?"

"She said she wouldn't," I reminded.

"Yes, but she might let it slip by accident," Louisa insisted. "I'd better have a word with her, if my parents haven't talked to her already."

"Louisa, wait!" I followed her as she began to run off. As she turned to me, I pointed at the cornfield. "Don't you see?"

"What?" Louisa squinted at the field.

"The scarecrow… it's different," I explained.

Louisa's eyes widened. "You're right, Fern! The scarecrow is there. I thought it'd be burned away after last night."

I glanced up at the cornfield, and jumped out of my skin. The scarecrow was standing there, but it was further into the field than before. Both its arms drooped at its sides and its head flopped down, as if lowered.

"But… it was in a different place before," I tried to explain. "It was closer. And it was looking away. One of the arms was pointing at something…"

Louisa stared at me. Now she must've really thought I was crazy.

"You know, Fern, you could just admit to what you did," Louisa suggested. "Then again, I guess it's my fault. I shouldn't have blamed you for what I did. I'm sorry I did that, but I thought you'd gotten over it."

I reluctantly followed Louisa. I was starting to get along with her, and now she was mad at me again. But I knew I hadn't done any of the things she was blaming me for. She stopped outside the barn and put her head to the door. Then she backed away, her face falling.

"Dad's talking with the twins," she reported, wincing. "He must be really mad at them. He's really yelling. They'll probably blame me as well. But you know I didn't do it, don't you?"

"How should I know?" I retorted. "You think I did it."

"Well, it had to be someone," Louisa insisted. "Come on, Fern, I'll show you where they found the pumpkins."

But before she could, there was a loud thud and even louder yells from inside the barn. Louisa turned to the door, taken aback.

"What on earth is going on in there?" she muttered.

The door swung open, and Louisa jumped back. Peter stormed out, his face filled with rage. Janet followed him, trying to calm him down.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Louisa asked.

Peter ignored her while storming away. I stared at Louisa, who shrugged. Nadia and Aidan were standing right inside, both looking meek and scared with their heads bowed.

"Nadia, what's wrong?" Louisa called.

"Did you tell him we were there?" I added.

"Come in and see," Nadia muttered, stepping back.

"He's going to kill us," Aidan groaned.

I stared at them in worry, but followed Louisa into the barn. It was too dark to see anything at first, before Nadia turned on the light. I squinted in the dim light of the barn as the twins led us into the stalls. I stared at the row of snorting, stamping horses. They seemed agitated that morning. I backed away from them, but didn't notice anything strange at first.

Louisa reached up to pat a few of them as she walked through the stalls, but they jerked their heads away. She gasped in shock as she came to the end. "Where have Sandy and Mistletoe gone?"

"We don't know," Aidan replied. "They're gone. We must've forgotten to lock the stalls." I winced, remembering how I had done the same in the chicken coop.

"No, we didn't," Nadia insisted. "I remembered to lock every one of them, as I always do. They were all safely in here when I went to feed them."

"The horses have escaped?" I demanded.

"Only a few of them," Louisa added, trying to be hopeful. "Some of the stalls are empty. But the rest are still here."

"But that's enough to anger Peter," Aidan muttered. "He's almost as bad as the ringmaster."

"Well, he's right to be angry," Nadia insisted. "We did take the horses with us when we left, didn't we? And we're supposed to be in charge of them. It's no wonder he'd blame us."

"But we never let any of them escape before," Aidan protested. "Well, except for that time we escaped…"

"Didn't you notice they were empty?" Louisa asked.

"Of course I did," Nadia said. "But I didn't want to realize they were gone. I knew we'd be in for it if we reported it. But I guess I should've done that straight away."

"You definitely should've," Aidan hissed. "You must've left one of them open. And now, he's furious at both of us."

"Me?" Nadia demanded. "You're the one who's always ignoring them."

Louisa headed back to me as they started arguing. "I can't believe it," she muttered to me. "That we could've lost the horses, without noticing! That's the worst thing anyone can do on a farm."

"Yeah, I guess it would be," I muttered, lowering my head.

"Oh, not like losing the chicken," Louisa assured. "That thing was tiny. But the horses are huge, even the smallest ones. How could they just gallop out of the barn without anyone noticing? They'd have to be super quiet."

"Maybe it was when we were all asleep," I suggested.

"But even so, I think they'd have woken us up," Louisa insisted. "And how could they open the door to the barn, anyway? Unless someone let them out. We were all in the barn last night, after all. Well, except for my parents."

I groaned. "Don't tell me you're going to accuse me again."

"Oh, no," Louisa assured. "I don't think even you're stupid enough to do that." I scowled. "But I don't think it was Nadia or Aidan, either."

"Then who was it?" I demanded.

Louisa shrugged. "At least now, Mom and Dad will forget about the pumpkins. Now they have something much more important to focus on. It's no wonder Dad is so mad. He loved those horses."

"He did?" I asked.

"Yeah. He might not seem like it, but he loves everything on this farm," Louisa admitted. "And the horses love him too. You should hear him talking to them and feeding them. You wouldn't believe it's him!"

"Then why did he get so mad when we were riding them?" I asked.

"He probably worried we'd get hurt, or make them panic and run off," Louisa explained. "Like the twins did when they left. Their horses threw them off and then ran back to the farm, but they were injured. Dad was so gentle when he treated them. He's probably very upset they're gone."

"I just hope Nadia didn't let slip that we were here," I quipped. "Then we'd really be in for it."

"What?" I winced as I heard Aidan yelling. "You're telling me, they were in the barn last night?"

Nadia groaned. "It doesn't matter, Aidan. They left before you even woke up."

"I can't believe this!" Aidan exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at Louisa. "I thought you had gotten over sleeping in the loft."

"That was years ago," Louisa insisted, looking sheepish. "And I only did since we were locked out of the house, and Fern was too afraid to go inside… but you don't really think we did it, do you?"

"You were causing problems with the horses just a few days ago," Aidan accused.

"That doesn't mean we'd set them free!" I exclaimed. "Actually, that's the last thing I do. I'd never even go near one after I fell off."

"Fern's right," Louisa agreed. "And even if we did let them loose, they'd make such a noise that they'd wake you."

"Yes, that's true," Aidan admitted reluctantly. "Only Peter can calm the horses."

"You didn't tell him we were here, did you?" I added.

"I wanted to, just to make him stop yelling at us. But I didn't," Nadia assured. "I didn't even tell Aidan until now. But I really think I should. He thinks it was all our faults."

"Oh, please don't, Nadia!" Louisa pleaded. "He's already not happy with us. And you know we'd never do anything like that."

"Well, someone had to," Aidan quipped.

"Alright, fine. I won't," Nadia agreed. "But in return, you have to do something for us."

"Huh? Do what?" I asked.

"Peter wants us to find the rest of the horses," Nadia explained. "We'll have to search as soon as possible if we want to find them."

"I'm glad," Aidan added. "It'll be an opportunity to get away from here."

"Can I come with you?" I asked eagerly. Maybe this would be my chance to return home.

"Actually, I was thinking you could stay behind and watch the barn while we're gone," Nadia explained. She reached out to stroke one of the agitated horses. "It'll be hard enough calming the rest of the horses. But I'm sure they'll feel better once they're fed again. You do remember how, don't you, Louisa?"

"Of course I do," Louisa assured. "Don't worry, Nadia. We'll take care of the horses."

"Are you really going to let them?" Aidan added. "I think they've spent enough time in here."

"That's right," I agreed, as eager to get away from the horses as I was to return home. "I could come with you to search for them. I promise I won't mess up. I'll stay out of the way."

"Peter is coming with us," Nadia explained. "He's just as desperate to find the horses. It's probably a good thing. He'll be able to find them quicker than us."

"So you're leaving us alone?" I demanded.

"Of course not. Janet will stay behind on the farm," Nadia assured. "But it'll be hard for her to look after everything by herself."

"I don't know," I muttered. "I think I should go back home."

"Oh, we're not going to your town or anything," Nadia assured. "Peter said he'll search near the farm first, and then maybe the town nearby. He said it wouldn't be hard to find the horses. But I know he's too proud to admit he lost anything or ask for help."

"I'm glad for that. They didn't report when we went missing," Aidan remarked. "They insisted they could care for the farm all by themselves. But they clearly couldn't, from the state it was in when we returned."

"Still, could I come along anyway?" I asked. "I don't want to cause any more problems here."

"Don't worry, Fern," Louisa assured. "You don't have to go near the horses. There's plenty of other work to do on the farm. You can help out my mom."

"That is, unless you want them to know you were sleeping here last night," Aidan added. "If that's what you want, you could come with us."

"Aidan!" Nadia scolded. "Don't talk like that. We're not threatening them or anything. But it would be decent of you to stay and help out."

That was the last thing I wanted. I knew they'd be furious at me. I reluctantly agreed to stay, figuring I could hide up in the attic. I left Louisa to feed the horses while I went to the farmhouse.

"Where are you going, Fern?" Louisa asked.

"I told you, I don't want to cause any more problems," I insisted, backing away from the horses. "Besides, I don't think they like me."

Louisa reluctantly agreed. But as soon as I was in the farmhouse, I felt the same uneasy chill run down my spine as I walked over the creaking floorboards. I couldn't stop thinking about the fire that had been here years ago. I was constantly reminded of it as I glanced around the blackened walls and crumbling furniture. I headed into Louisa's room, which was less rundown than the rest of the farmhouse, to my relief. I remembered how she said she had gone up to my room to find the book. I had placed the book right next to my bed, so it wouldn't be hard to find. She was too preoccupied with what had happened to tell me, but I realized she must've taken the book.

Even though her room was so messy that I could barely keep track of anything, I found myself trying to find the book. I wasn't sure why, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. I wanted to be sure of what I had read. I finally found it buried under her bed, next to a pair of old riding boots.

I opened the leather cover, noticing it was burned at the edges, and flipped through the old pages. I scanned the small, neat handwriting, reading more about the farmer's thoughts. John really hated the farm, and what was worse, I understood how he felt. The things he went through sounded even worse from what I could make out, and he had to deal with it his entire life. I had thought about running away as well, but now I was relieved that I'd at least be able to go home soon. John's family made him stay at the farm, working day and night.

I stopped at the page where he listed his plans. What he tried to do wasn't right, of course. I was shocked that he had thought about burning down the farmhouse, or that he had actually managed to, at least a little. Something his family did to him had pushed him over the edge, and he wanted them to suffer. I slowly turned the page, expecting the rest of the journal to be blank. But to my surprise, there was a messy drawing on the next page.

It seemed to be a circle, but there were shapes drawn in the middle, creating a face. I jumped as I realized what it was. A jack-o-lantern. I wondered if that had caused the fire, but I knew it wouldn't have done much if John was planning on it with all the other materials.

I was about to close the book when I caught sight of faded writing on the next page. I could barely make it out, but what I could put together shocked me.

I can't do it. I don't know what I was thinking. I threw them all away. They haven't noticed yet. All I kept was the pumpkin. They warned me not to buy it. But I didn't believe the story. They keep telling me to throw it out as well, but I won't listen.

John had changed his mind, I realized. He was planning on starting the fire, but then he realized how crazy he was being. He hadn't been thinking clearly, like I did when I tried running away.

But there had been a fire after all. Maybe John had gone through with it anyway, but I didn't think so. I began to think the jack-o-lantern had been responsible after all. The small amount of fire shouldn't have been enough to light the entire farmhouse, but I remembered all the rumors about my town. Maybe the jack-o-lantern had been powerful, like they had warned him. And he didn't realize until it was too late.

I wondered if it was the same jack-o-lantern they kept in the kitchen. The thought made me shudder, along with the thought that his spirit was inside. At least it hadn't spread across the entire cornfield, only the scarecrow. The scarecrow seemed unharmed, but there was something strange about it. It seemed less like a scarecrow and more like a person now, and not just because it kept changing position in the field.