I went ahead and asked her about it over breakfast, but in case it had something to do with any real ghost stories, I asked it on the sly—in private as much as I could. I waited until the other girls had taken their trays to the drop-off line, and then I leaned over to Cora.

“Last night I thought I heard something. I thought I heard you talking in your sleep.” It was a lie, but it was a polite one. It gave her an out, and let her pretend she didn’t know what I meant if she didn’t intend to fill me in.

“I don’t talk in my sleep,” she argued. “You might’ve heard me, but I was awake.”

“Were you saying your prayers?”

“No.” She said it matter-of-factly, not like it was the most outlandish suggestion in the world, but like it wasn’t the correct one.

Cora didn’t volunteer any more information, but she hadn’t acted like it was something that embarrassed her, either, so I picked at the question a little more. “Were you talking to yourself? ’Cause I do that sometimes, too.”

She thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Something like that. It’s this thing I do when I can’t sleep.”

“Oh.” That made sense, but it wasn’t very interesting. I hoped that wasn’t the end of it, and I might have asked more questions but our roommates returned without their trays. It was time for camp games. I hoped they’d let red rover drop and move onto something else. My arms were sore, and if they tried to make me play that stupid game again, I was going to look Mr. Joe straight in the eye and tell him I had my period.

Thankfully, it didn’t come to that. We played something else, or maybe we went swimming. I don’t remember. The middle of that day was the least interesting part; and it wasn’t until well after lights-out that things got interesting again.

I made a deal with myself that I’d stay awake long enough to see if Cora did it again, but I was worn out and I broke that deal.

I didn’t stay asleep long, though. I woke up to a gentle shake, and it was Cora. She looked like she’d seen a ghost, and believe me, that’s a look I know all too well. “What’s going on?” I meant to ask, but she shushed me and widened her eyes into two wet, worried orbs.

“It doesn’t always work,” she said in that loud whisper that meant someone would wake up if she kept talking for long. “It isn’t like a proper prayer, maybe that’s why. I don’t know any real prayers, do you?”