There were three things everyone in Willowmere knew about the abandoned house on Rosewood Lane.

First, nobody had lived there for twenty-three years.

Second, strange lights appeared in its garden every Thursday night.

And third, anyone foolish enough to enter the garden always came back with a completely ridiculous story.

According to Mr. Finch, the baker, the garden contained a tree that whispered people’s secrets.

According to Mrs. Bell, the librarian, there was a fountain that changed color whenever somebody lied.

And according to twelve-year-old Jamie Reed, there was a chicken in the garden that wore spectacles.

Nobody believed Jamie.

Mostly because Jamie had once claimed that his grandmother’s vacuum cleaner was trying to kill him.

But seventeen-year-old Ivy Harper had never been interested in rumors.

Until she moved into the house next door.

Ivy stood beside the moving truck, holding a cardboard box marked BOOKS — DO NOT DROP, while her younger brother Leo struggled with a lamp.

“Where do you want this?” Leo shouted.

“Inside!”

“That’s not a location!”

“The living room!”

“There are six rooms!”

“Then pick one!”

Leo sighed dramatically.

“I miss our old house.”

Ivy smiled.

“You said you hated our old house.”

“I changed my mind.”

“You changed your mind three times today.”

“I’m growing emotionally.”

“You’re fourteen.”

“Exactly. Very complicated age.”

Ivy laughed and carried the box toward their new home.

The Harper family had moved to Willowmere because their mother had accepted a job at the local museum.

Willowmere looked like something from a storybook.

Small stone houses.

Flower-covered windows.

Tiny cafés.

A clock tower in the town square.

And narrow streets lined with trees.

It was beautiful.

Almost too beautiful.

Ivy noticed the abandoned house immediately.

It stood behind a tall iron fence at the end of Rosewood Lane.

Its windows were dusty.

Its roof was covered in ivy.

But the strangest thing was the garden.

A huge brick wall surrounded it.

Purple flowers climbed over the wall.

Silver vines twisted between the bricks.

And at the very top stood an old stone statue of a rabbit wearing a crown.

Ivy stared.

Leo walked beside her.

“What?”

“That rabbit.”

Leo looked up.

“It’s creepy.”

“It has a crown.”

“Still creepy.”

Ivy smiled.

“Do you know who lives there?”

“Nobody.”

“How do you know?”

“Mrs. Harper’s new neighbor told me.”

“Mom?”

“No. The old lady across the street.”

“Mrs. Bell?”

“Yeah.”

“What else did she say?”

Leo shrugged.

“She said the garden is cursed.”

Ivy rolled her eyes.

“Of course she did.”

“She also said there’s a ghost.”

“Of course.”

“And a talking cat.”

Ivy stopped.

“A talking cat?”

Leo nodded seriously.

“That’s the part I believe.”

Ivy laughed.

They continued toward their house.

But just before she entered the front door, Ivy heard something.

A tiny sound.

Ting.

She turned.

The sound had come from behind the garden wall.

She stared at the iron gate.

It was locked.

Then she noticed something unusual.

One of the purple flowers had fallen onto the pavement.

Ivy walked toward it.

She bent down.

The flower was warm.

Not slightly warm.

Hot.

She immediately dropped it.

“What the—?”

Leo came running.

“What happened?”

Ivy pointed.

The flower slowly moved.

Its stem curled around itself.

Then the petals opened.

Inside was a tiny brass key.

Leo stared.

“Okay.”

Ivy looked at him.

“Okay?”

“That garden is officially weird.”

Ivy picked up the key.

It was engraved with a tiny symbol.

A crescent moon surrounded by seven stars.

She turned it over.

On the back were four words.

NOT EVERY DOOR IS WOOD.

Ivy’s curiosity exploded.

That evening, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

At dinner, she barely touched her food.

Her mother noticed.

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m thinking.”

“That’s dangerous,” Leo said.

Ivy kicked him under the table.

“Ow!”

Their mother smiled.

“About what?”

“Nothing.”

Leo immediately said, “The haunted garden.”

Ivy glared at him.

Their mother laughed.

“You found the famous garden?”

“Famous?”

“Everyone in town knows about it.”

“What happened to it?”

Her mother became strangely quiet.

“Nobody knows.”

“What do you mean?”

“The owner disappeared.”

“When?”

“Twenty-three years ago.”

Ivy looked toward the window.

“And nobody ever sold the house?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Her mother shrugged.

“Legal problems. Family disputes. Old documents. Your usual small-town mystery.”

Leo leaned forward.

“Mom, is it true there’s a talking cat?”

Their mother laughed.

“No.”

Ivy smiled.

“See?”

“Probably,” Leo said.

That night, rain began falling against the windows.

Ivy lay awake.

She kept looking at the brass key sitting on her desk.

At 11:47 p.m., she heard something outside.

Ting.

She sat up.

Again.

Ting.

She walked to the window.

The garden wall stood across the street.

But something had changed.

A soft golden glow appeared behind it.

Ivy grabbed her jacket.

She quietly left the house.

The rain had stopped.

The street was empty.

She crossed toward the garden.

The iron gate was still locked.

But when she placed the brass key against the lock…

CLICK.

The gate opened.

Ivy froze.

She hadn’t even turned the key.

She pushed the gate open.

Beyond it was a garden unlike anything she had ever seen.

Moonflowers glowed beneath the trees.

Tiny blue mushrooms illuminated the pathways.

Glass butterflies floated through the air.

A fountain in the center contained silver water.

And hanging from the branches of an enormous tree were hundreds of little objects.

Keys.

Buttons.

Watches.

Photographs.

Letters.

Toys.

Jewelry.

Things people had lost.

Ivy slowly walked forward.

“What is this place?”

A voice answered behind her.

“That’s exactly what I’d like to know.”

Ivy screamed.

A boy stepped from behind a tree.

He was about eighteen, wearing a dark green jacket and holding a notebook.

“Relax.”

“You scared me!”

“You screamed.”

“Because you appeared out of nowhere!”

“I was standing there.”

“You were hiding!”

“Technically, yes.”

Ivy stared at him.

“Who are you?”

He smiled.

“Theo Vale.”

“Do you live here?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

Theo looked around the strange garden.

“Because I’ve been investigating it for six months.”

Ivy crossed her arms.

“And what have you discovered?”

Theo opened his notebook.

“Nothing.”

Ivy blinked.

“Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“That sounds like a terrible investigation.”

“It is.”

She almost laughed.

Then something moved above them.

Both looked upward.

A tiny white cat sat on a branch.

It wore round golden spectacles.

The cat stared at them.

Then it spoke.

“Finally.”

Ivy’s mouth fell open.

Theo calmly wrote something in his notebook.

Ivy pointed at the cat.

“THE CAT JUST TALKED!”

The cat sighed.

“Yes.”

Theo nodded.

“That’s usually how conversations work.”

The cat jumped from the branch and landed gracefully on the stone fountain.

“My name is Professor Whiskers.”

Ivy stared at Theo.

Theo shrugged.

“I told you I was investigating.”

The cat looked directly at Ivy.

“You have the key.”

Ivy looked down.

The brass key was still in her hand.

“What does it open?”

Professor Whiskers smiled.

“That, dear girl, is the problem.”

The fountain suddenly turned black.

Every glowing flower in the garden went dark.

The floating butterflies disappeared.

The tree stopped moving.

Then hundreds of objects hanging from its branches began shaking.

One by one, they fell.

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

Theo’s face changed.

“That’s never happened before.”

A final object dropped from the tree.

A small silver locket.

It landed at Ivy’s feet.

She picked it up.

The moment she opened it, a photograph appeared inside.

It showed a young woman standing in the garden.

Beside her was a little girl.

And behind them stood a younger version of Professor Whiskers.

Ivy stared at the photograph.

“Who are they?”

The cat didn’t answer.

Theo looked frightened.

“That woman was the owner of this house.”

“And the girl?”

Professor Whiskers slowly lowered his head.

“My previous mistress.”

Ivy looked at him.

“Where is she now?”

The cat’s eyes reflected the moonlight.

“She disappeared twenty-three years ago.”

A cold wind swept through the garden.

Then the fountain began glowing again.

Words appeared across its surface.

SHE DID NOT LEAVE.

Ivy’s heart stopped.

Theo whispered:

“Someone is still looking for her.”

And from somewhere deep inside the garden…

A girl’s voice softly called Ivy’s name.

“Ivy…”

The garden gates slammed shut.

And the mystery began.