The back cabin door opened and slammed shut; footsteps crunched through the gravel on the side of the house. Kennedy stepped up onto the porch and sat in the rocker next to mine. She had on ripped black denim shorts and a cold-shoulder black top, with a hideous tan vest that had tiny pockets everywhere. I thought for a second she was wearing a choker, but realized it was the tied cord of the fishing hat hanging down her back.

“I caught a twenty-inch brown trout!” my cousin said excitedly. “I used a Rabbit Strip Streamer fly, size eight. It was wicked awesome.”

I looked at her blankly for a second, then said, “Congratulations?”

“Yeahthanks!” she said, the words running together like they were one.

“I didn’t know fishing was . . . your thing?”

Kennedy shrugged. “Grandpa taught me last summer when you guys were out running around. It sucks he’s not here this year.” Yee-ah. Grandpa was on a cruise with a woman he’d met at his yoga class. “I’m going to text him a picture.”

“Tell him hi,” I said, rocking slowly, finding pictures in the clouds.

“So, what’s up with you?” Kennedy asked, eyes on her phone, typing away.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Maureen called Brandon when we were coming off the river, and I don’t know what she said, but it was obviously about you.” She glanced at me with heavily lined eyes, then looked back at her device. “You keep screaming in your sleep.”

“I thought that only happened once,” I said.

Kennedy shrugged again in response.

“Is it because that ghost touched you in South Pass City—”

“It wasn’t a ghost,” I interrupted, unsure, wishing I hadn’t told her about that.

“I mean, you kinda freaked out there. And you look like you’re going to jump out of your skin every time we’re in the car?” Cah.

Only when we drive under the animal crossing, I thought defensively.

“I don’t know!” I snapped. “Will you stop asking me questions and just leave me alone?”

Kennedy looked at me, surprised.

“Whoa, cousin, I’ve never heard you get mad before.” She grinned. “I think I like you more now.”

I shook my head at her, saying sarcastically, “Gee, thanks.” My eyes welled up with tears and quickly overflowed.

Kennedy stopped her chair from rocking and leaned forward. “Don’t cry, I was just kidding,” she said. “I know I don’t always act like it, but I do like you. You’re my cousin.”

“I’m not crying because of that,” I said, wiping away tears.

“Then what?” In her weird Goth-fisherwoman outfit, Kennedy did look like she cared.

“Either I’m losing my mind,” I began, “or Colette is haunting me.”