Not going along with Grandma’s idea to look at tapes was a mistake, but Shelly hadn’t had a plan then. The only cassettes Shelly has left are the holiday ones her mom refused to keep in the car year-round. There are three tucked away in the drawer of the bedside table. Giving one away hurts, but if Joseph has seen or heard anything from her mom, it’ll be worth it.

Shelly waits for Grandma to take another job that leaves Shelly home alone, but she doesn’t. Instead, Grandma takes the bus with Shelly to school in the mornings, and on days when she doesn’t pick Shelly up, Grandma is always waiting with a snack at home, ready to ask about her day.

“What about money?” Shelly asks, the fifth day in a row she comes home to a warm house. Grandma is roasting a pork loin in the oven and the fridge is fully stocked with milk, like Grandma is expecting to feed more ghosts soon. “What about jobs?”

“I’m working during the day,” Grandma says. “I shouldn’t be leaving you home alone. People who want a ghost out of their house badly enough will accommodate me working daytime hours now.”

It’s true that people will bend over backward to get rid of the things they don’t want. They’ll use their vacation days to watch Grandma wander through their homes, plucking up the skittering ghosts of rats and freeing them in the garden.

It’s true, but it’s another way Grandma is breaking her own rules.

“They’ll do anything to get rid of a ghost once they know they have one,” Shelly says. “That doesn’t mean we should make them.”

“No,” Grandma agrees. “But right now the two of us being together is more important.”

Shelly wants to snap at Grandma—to remind her that she’s the one who left Shelly while she worked with the police in the first place—but she stays silent. She has her tape chosen and a plan in mind, but she can’t count on Grandma leaving her alone again anytime soon. It means she needs to sneak out when she knows Grandma isn’t likely to check on her. It means going to the graveyard at night.

• • •

Shelly waits until she’s sure Grandma is asleep—until almost midnight—and slips out of her bedroom. Shelly’s never left the house alone after dark before. She puts on her coat and boots as quietly as she can. The cassette is in her pocket. The sound of the door opening seems much, much louder than she’s used to when she turns the lock and pulls it open, but Grandma doesn’t stir—just gently snores.