"What'll happen if we refuse?" Charlie challenged.
Jeremy grinned, and said, "I'll tell your parents that you're involving yourself in a dangerous police case. They'll send you to therapy, or boarding school, or some other Hell-on-Earth. You'll sit there, alone, separated from your best friend, and, in the cold darkness, you'll quietly whimper, 'Why didn't I let Jeremy in?'"
"Here's another idea." I said, "How about we tell your parents about some of the stuff that you've been doing?" I kept it vague, but I held a serious expression, to allow him to fill in the blanks. We, of course, had no idea what the blanks were, or even if there were any, but it was worth a shot. There was a high chance of failure, but there was always room for improvisation.
It worked. His eyes widened, in grim anticipation. We expected him to retort, but he did not. Whatever he imagined must have been terrible, for he simply got up, and exclaimed, "This will not end." As he walked off, the bell rang.
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