Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - BOOCarz

“What’s happening?” Emma said. “Who is this
man?”
“Shut up!” he snapped. “You’ll get your turn.”
“You’ve been watching me,” I said. “You killed those
sheep. You killed Martin.”
“Who, me?” he said innocently. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“But you’re a wight, aren’t you?”
“That’s their word,” he said.
I couldn’t understand it. I hadn’t seen the yard man
since my mother replaced him three years ago, and
Mr. Barron had vanished from my life after eighth
grade. Had they—he—really been following me?
“How’d you know where to find me?”
“Why, Jacob,” he said, his voice changing yet
again, “you told me yourself. In confidence, of course.”
It was a middle-American accent now, soft and
educated. He tipped the flashlight up so that its glow
spilled onto his face.
The beard I’d seen him wearing the other day was
gone. Now there was no mistaking him.
“Dr. Golan,” I said, my voice a whisper swallowed
by the drumming rain.
I thought back to our telephone conversation a few
days ago. The noise in the background—he’d said he
was at the airport. But he wasn’t picking up his sister.
He was coming after me.
I backed against Martin’s trough, reeling, numbness
spreading through me. “The neighbor,” I said. “The old
man watering his lawn the night my grandfather died.
That was you, too.”
He smiled.
“But your eyes,” I said.
“Contact lenses,” he replied. He popped one out
with his thumb, revealing a blank orb. “Amazing what