But she knew what she’d really wanted was for her mother to want to touch her more. That same test Izabel used to set to her boyfriends when she was young, waiting for them to know what to do. She didn’t do that with Kaito. She told Kaito what she wanted and he did all of it, any of it, remembered to keep doing it, without her asking again. In this one way, she’d taught herself how to be happy.

When Kaito finally came out, he spoke quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to talk to you,” Izabel said.

“What is it? What did Paz want?”

“Lucy was there.”

“The medium?”

Izabel nodded. “She contacted Jana’s mom.”

“Holy shit.”

“She contacted Jana’s mom through me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I talked, but Adira was the one who was speaking.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I thought I was listening to Lucy. I didn’t know I was doing it.”

“Are you okay?”

She shook her head, and Kaito held her like he had in the car.

And then he said, “Was it helpful? To the case?”

“I think so,” Izabel said, though she didn’t want him to be considering the value of what had happened.

“That’s good then, right?”

“What if she’s in me?” she said.

“Jana’s mom?”

She nodded.

“No! She’s not.”

“You think Cami is inspirited. Why not me?”

“You’re not. She’s not in you. I promise.”

“You promise?”

“Yes,” he said, with a single, sharp nod. And he said it so definitively, this man who believed in ghosts and spirits and monsters, that Izabel accepted that she was herself and herself alone.

After dinner, Jana volunteered to do the dishes, and Izabel watched her and wondered if she was beginning to feel like part of the family.

Kaito took Cami to do the new bedtime routine. It was going well, but they weren’t sure if it was changing anything. She was still sleep-talking, but nothing upsetting.

Jana rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. She filled it differently than Kaito and Izabel did, with the plates bent toward the middle on one side and the other, instead of all lined up in the same direction.

“Thank you,” Izabel said.

“No problem,” Jana said. She dried off her hands and, since Izabel was still there, she came back to the table.

“Do you like it here?” Izabel asked.

“Yeah, it’s cool. Do you like it?”

“Yeah.”

“What was your old house like?” Jana said.

“More of the standard-issue stuff. We had a tiled shower that I loved.”

“Different from this one?”

“Yeah, different colors, and textures. But I like this one, too.”

“But it’s not yours.”

Izabel nodded and Jana picked at her nails.

“What about your old house?” Izabel asked.

“My parents had a lot of tapestries, I think you’d call them.”