I set down my sketchbook and charcoal and stood up. Kane put his hand in mine for the short, seven-step walk to the refrigerator. I would definitely miss this small person.

“Maybe could I have juice please?” he asked hopefully after seeing inside the fridge.

I knew his mom wouldn’t like it, but I wanted to make Kane happy. He drank the kid-size cup of apple juice quickly, making clicks each time he sucked in a mouthful. When he was finished, he handed me the cup, wiped away his juice mustache, and exhaled like he’d just run a marathon.

He wrapped his arms around my hips and hugged tight. “I love you, Teth, good night.”

I hugged him back. “I love you, too, Kane.”

He waved and disappeared down the dark hallway. I heard Aunt Maureen whisper for him to get back in bed when he opened the bedroom door.

The portrait of Colette wasn’t finished, but it was enough for tonight. After seeing the glowing 2:46 on the microwave, I realized how exhausted I was.

Yawning, I gathered my stuff and went upstairs, gripping the handrail as I climbed. Tiptoeing across the dark loft, I heard Kennedy snoring quietly and crickets chirping loudly outside. I shivered as I went to close the open window. I pushed aside the frilly curtains and put my hands on the bottom of the pane, looking out at the dark prairie grass and the empty boulder where Colette and I had told ghost stories just one year ago. It felt like longer.

Struggling to close the sticky old window, I noticed that at the house next door, the modern cabin much larger than ours, there was a light on in a second-story window. The next moment, a silhouette appeared.

I ducked down, even though the lights were off, peering over the windowsill, watching. The silhouette stood still for as long as it takes to sing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”—I know because I could hear Aunt Maureen singing it to Kane downstairs. As quickly as it’d appeared, the silhouette vanished, then the yellow glow of the second-story light went out.

It left me with a feeling I didn’t like and couldn’t explain. I mean, I was awake, and Kane had gotten up. I don’t know why it bothered me that a neighbor was up, too. Still, I went to bed unsettled, clutching my childhood teddy bear, hoping he would protect me like when I was a little girl.

chapter 19

I woke up to find fourteen texts from my sister. She’d started sending them three hours ago, around five in the morning Wyoming time, which was four in the morning in Washington.

FRANKIE