“Yeah. Her name’s Willow.” My words come out faster than I can stop them, and instantly I want to take them back. The goal is not to open up to Emma. And besides, I sound like I have a huge crush on Willow, which, okay, maybe in normal circumstances, I would. But that isn’t what this is about.

I brace myself, but Emma doesn’t smile or wink or do anything embarrassing. Instead she says, “Tell me about her.” The full weight of Emma’s gaze is overwhelming. Normally she’s doing about a thousand things, and having her full attention is like staring into the sun.

Willow.

“Um…” She looks like a mermaid. I think she’s a sign from the universe. When I see her I get the feeling I’m going to figure out how to get back to my mom. I realize how wild that sounds, but also, it’s true. “I think she’s my age. Her mom inherited the house from her sister. She has red hair.” I realize as I’m saying it that this is a pathetic collection of facts. I don’t even know where she’s from.

Despite my paltry offerings, Emma nods as though the sunshine in my voice makes perfect sense. “My coworker asked if I’d fill in for her on a ghost tour tomorrow night. I don’t typically do the ghost tours, but I’ll say yes if it sounds fun to you.” She takes out her phone, then pulls up the tour company’s website. Historical Hauntings. An unforgettable night exploring Salem’s most famous ghosts.

The type of tour obviously isn’t the point for me, but Historical Hauntings actually does sound fun. I pass the phone back to her. “Simon has her phone number. He said he’d call and arrange it.” That part is moderately humiliating, as it feels like I’m being set up on a playdate. I’m obviously willing to deal with that part if it means spending time with her, but it’s embarrassing anyway.

Emma’s voice is casual. “Your foster care worker says you had to leave your old phone back at the group home. Do you want one?”

For a moment I stare at her.

“Sorry, dumb question. Of course you want a phone,” she says.

Excitement rises in my chest, but then I quickly tamp it down. “You don’t have to get me one,” I say quickly.

“I know,” she says. “But friends can make a big difference. Even if she’s only here for a little while, it would be good if you were able to contact her. I’ll run to the store tomorrow, okay? It will probably be pretty basic, but maybe we can figure out a way for you to get a better phone later down the line. Does that sound okay for now?”