“A good idea,” she answered. “But we can’t choose what we forget. The more we try to forget something, the more we end up remembering it. Careful, or your whole face will get covered in chocolate.”

Nick chuckled nervously, as if she were kidding, and he stopped when he realized she wasn’t.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “As long as you’re with us, you’re among friends, and we will always remind you who you were when you arrived.”

In the corner, Lief grunted in frustration. “My fingers don’t work fast enough to play this.” He banged his Game Boy against the wall in anger, but didn’t stop playing.

“Mary … can I ask you a question?” Nick said.

Mary sat with him on the sofa. “Of course.”

“So … what happens now?”

Mary waited for more, but there was no more. “I’m sorry … I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“We’re dead, right.”

“Well, yes, technically.”

“And like your book says, we’re stuck in this Everlost place, right?”

“Forever and always.”

“So … what do we do now?”

Mary stood up, not at all comfortable with the question. “Well, what do you like to do? Whatever you like to do, that’s what you get to do.”

“And when I get tired of it?”

“I’m sure you’ll find something to keep you content.”

“I’m not too good at contentment,” he said. “Maybe you can help me.”

She turned to Nick, and found herself locked in his gaze. This time he wasn’t blushing. “I’d really like it if you could.”

Mary held eye contact with Nick much longer than she expected to. She began to feel flustered, and she never felt flustered. Flustered was not in Mary Hightower’s emotional dictionary.

“This game’s stupid,” said Lief. “Who the heck is Zelda, anyway?”

Mary tore herself away from Nick’s gaze, angry at herself for allowing a slip of her emotions. She was a mentor. She was a guardian. She needed to keep an emotional distance from the kids under her wing. She could care about them—but only the way a mother loves her children. As long as she remembered that, things would be fine.

“I have an idea for you, Nick.” Mary went to a dresser, and opened the top drawer, getting her errant feelings under control. She pulled out paper and a pen. Mary made sure all arriving Greensouls always had paper and pens. Crayons for the younger ones. “Why don’t you make a list of all the things you ever wanted to do, and then we can talk about it.”

Mary left quickly, with a bit less grace than when she arrived.

Allie found the paper and pens long before Mary showed up in her “apartment,” or “hotel room,” or “cell.” She wasn’t quite sure what to call it yet. By the time Mary arrived, Allie had filled three pages with questions.

When Mary came, she stood at the threshold until Allie invited her in. Like a vampire, Allie thought. Vampires can’t come in unless invited. “You’ve been busy,” Mary said when she saw how much Allie had written.