Molly looked at the stains in the carpet, the torn posters on the walls, the crumbling ceiling tiles. Both the concession stand and ticket office were dark and empty. The former had a glass counter with several of the panes broken, fragments hanging like transparent teeth. The latter looked like it had been broken into, the door askew and clinging to a single hinge. In the center of the lobby stood four grand columns, one of which had a wide crack running its length with rough-hewn lumber nailed across it, making it look like an arm in a splint.

Molly frowned and rubbed her own arm.

“Thiss iss like a date,” Walter said.

Molly turned and saw him looking up at her, his hand reaching out to grab hers.

She pulled it away and used it to squeeze his shoulder. “This is not a date, Walter. We’re here to meet someone.” She glanced at the various doors leading to the seats. “Let’s go sit up close so we can get her attention after the show.” She headed for the stairs leading down, but Walter ran toward the door marked “Balcony.”

“I wanna ssit up top!” he called over his shoulder.

Molly sighed and headed up after him. She didn’t think it would be difficult to race down after the show and introduce herself to Cat, so she ascending the wide stairway darkened by burnt-out bulbs. Feeling her way up using the railing, Molly groped with her feet for that last, non-existent “ghost step” that always made her feel like a lepton.

Just as she started worrying about it, someone jumped at her, fingers digging into her ribs and nearly knocking her back down the steps.

“BOO!” Walter yelled.

Molly jumped so hard, she nearly pulled a muscle. She swung an open hand at him, but he was already rolling around on the red carpet, panting and wheezing in a full-on Palan giggle fit. Molly pictured herself kicking him in the shins, but somehow restrained herself. Then, the sight of something incredibly familiar loomed in her peripheral, distracting her.

She stepped over Walter and went to the rail, looking down across the seats and the handful of people milling about. She took in the stage, lit only by the house lights, and knew she’d been there before. And more recently than her early childhood. Much more recently.

Dakura. Her mother’s simulated afterlife!