“From your aunt?” John asked, disconcerted by the sudden change of subject. “I figured you were living with her after you moved out of Jessica’s place.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said.

“You were living with her?”

“Have you seen her?”

“Why would I have seen her?” John asked slowly, suddenly feeling a bit lost in the conversation. He had seen Jen twice: once as a child, and once on that terrible night, crouched beside the twisted, broken Freddy suit in a pool of Charlie’s blood. But Charlie didn’t know about either. “You know I’ve never actually met her,” John said, watching Charlie’s face. Her expression was pensive, and did not change.

“I just thought she might try to get in touch,” Charlie said idly.

“Okay. I’ll let you know if she does?” John offered.

“Please do, thanks,” Charlie said. It was only then that she seemed to register his confusion. “I haven’t seen her in a while. She rescued me that night,” she said. “She took me home and cleaned me up, made sure I was okay.” She flashed John a quick half smile, and he returned it warily.

“I thought you said you didn’t remember anything from that night,” he said, trying to keep his tone from sounding accusatory.

“I said there was a lot I don’t remember. But mostly that’s what Jen told me. Honestly, the first thing I remember is her waking me up the next morning, telling me to put on the dress she had for me.” Charlie made a face. “She always wanted me to dress more like a girl. Of course, the joke was on me; it turns out after a few near-death experiences, there’s nothing I wanted more than a makeover.”

John smiled, and she batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly. He laughed in spite of himself.

“So, you think she might be looking for you?” He paused, unsure how to phrase the next part. “Do you want her to find you?” he asked at last, and she shrugged.

“I’d like to know where she is.”

“She’s not at the house where you’re living? When did she leave?”

“Everybody leaves eventually,” Charlie said in a sardonic tone, and he laughed again, less heartily.

You didn’t answer my question.

Charlie glanced at her watch: like everything else she now wore, it was a smaller, feminized version of the one she used to have. “There’s a good zombie movie starting in about fifteen minutes, I think,” she said brightly. “The new theater isn’t far from here. What do you think, should we see if the old formula still works?”

What does that mean? John held back a smile. “I can’t go to the movies,” he said with real reluctance. “I’ve got somewhere that I need to be.”

“Another time?” Charlie said, and he nodded.

“Yeah, maybe.”