“Hello,” he says. “My name is Marc. Nick says you want to talk to someone about our ghost story?”

“Did you know it’s wrong?” Shelly asks, doing her best not to point to the elevators. “It’s not a woman haunting the hotel, it’s a little boy.”

Marc pauses, looking down at Shelly then at Grandma. “I brought you a copy of the official history of the hotel,” he says and places the book he’s carrying on their table. The cover features a photograph of the hotel’s roof. It looks very official.

Grandma pushes the book to the side. “I’m offering to get rid of your ghost,” she says. “I can see he’s bothering your guests and staff, and he’s been stuck here a long time. He’s restless. I can help him move on.”

Marc glances at the haunted elevator like he knows exactly what they’re talking about then shakes his head. “Thank you, ladies, but we’re quite happy with our ghost. Like I said, she’s included in the official history.” Marc gestures toward the book. “People love coming to see her. It’s a fun spot for the tourists.”

“If they’ve never seen a ghost before, they won’t see one now,” Grandma says. Shelly’s never met anyone else who can see ghosts the way her family can. Plenty of people can feel them around, but being able to have a conversation with them and move them the way they can is special. “The dead don’t decide to make themselves known to you just the one time. It’s all or nothing.”

Marc’s smile is stiff and official. “I see,” he says. “We’re really not interested in buying an exorcism.”

“Oh, no charge,” Grandma says. “I just need your permission.”

“We’re not interested,” he says again. “We like having her around.”

“It’s not a her,” says Shelly. “It’s a little boy. He’s not much older than me. That’s why he’s playing in the elevator. He doesn’t have any friends here and he’s bored.”

Marc looks down at Shelly. “Aren’t you a little young to be telling ghost stories?” he asks. “Listen, it’s better if it’s the ghost of a young woman. A child, that’s morbid—sad. The death of a young woman is romantic. People enjoy it more.”

Shelly’s never seen anyone turn down Grandma’s offer before. She feels angry at Marc for saying no. Even people who don’t really believe her usually don’t mind having her walk around a bit, but Nick the concierge watches them from his desk after Marc leaves. Shelly and Grandma leave the restaurant and go home.

On the bus ride, Grandma takes Shelly’s hand in hers. “There’s nothing romantic about it,” she says. She’s annoyed. “Death is just death. You understand?”