Shelly sits in her mother’s room all night, waiting for her ghost, surrounded by things that smell like her mom’s shampoo—sweet and citrusy, like orange hard candies. Shelly knows ghosts, but it turns out that doesn’t mean she knows death. It turns out knowing ghosts doesn’t prepare you for the raw ache of missing someone. Grandma was right. There’s nothing romantic about death.

When she can’t stand to be in the room any longer, Shelly goes looking for her mom. She can’t leave the house for long or go very far without her grandma being worried, but she lets her hair out and she circles round and round the neighborhood looking for any sign of her mother. It feels like everything should be different, but it’s not. Neighbors walk their dogs. Other kids walk home from school. Shelly passes people jogging who smile and wave hello.

Something should be different, but it’s not. The weather is overcast but not raining. People are living their lives. There are no new ghosts to be found.

When Shelly gets back, Grandma is busy arranging things. The funeral. There’s a lot of paperwork on this side of death, a lot of money. Mrs. Potts comes over with a tin of cookies and a tuna casserole she sticks in the oven while Grandma’s on the phone.

“Do you have anything to wear?” she asks Shelly, and when Shelly shakes her head, Mrs. Potts looks at Grandma. “Why don’t I take Shelly shopping tomorrow? We’ll find something for her and you won’t have to worry about it.”

“Would you? That would be a big help,” says Grandma. “There’s no time to do anything.”

“Of course,” says Mrs. Potts. She holds out the tin of cookies to Shelly. “What do you think? We’ll go to the thrift store and see what they’ve got.”

Shelly wants to say that is where she and her mother went—that Zhou’s Family Restaurant is where they had secret french fries together and Mom talked about one day getting a nicer car—but she presses her lips together and takes a cookie from the tin. “Thank you,” she says instead because it’s polite and because there are other things Shelly can get at the thrift store.

When they go to the store, Mrs. Potts starts searching for dresses that are black or navy in Shelly’s size. Shelly slips away, to the back corner of the store, where the box of barely touched cassettes sits, waiting.

Shelly’s never stolen anything before, but tapes are hard to find.

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