Grandma shakes her head. “If it did, it’s had a long time to finish it before now,” she says. “It’s making life difficult for Isabel’s family. Our job is to help it move on. It’ll be better off where it’s going.” Grandma turns back to Mrs. Lee like she thinks the conversation is over.

Shelly frowns, squeezing her hands into fists at her sides. She doesn’t know how Grandma can claim the ghost will be better off when she doesn’t know what’s waiting on the other side. Grandma is acting like this ghost is the same as a raccoon or a mouse—a pest, not a person.

“The ghost is sad,” she says. “We should do something.”

“We are doing something. We’re sending it on to where it’s supposed to be.” Grandma reaches out to touch Shelly’s arm and Shelly takes a step back, away from her, as Isabel returns with a cup of coffee.

“I’m going to wait outside,” Shelly says. “You don’t need my help.”

“Shelly—” Grandma reaches for her again, but Shelly ducks away, heading down the hall and out the door. She doesn’t think the ghost should have to leave and she doesn’t want to watch it go.

Grandma doesn’t follow her out.

• • •

The sadness Shelly felt looking at the static ghost stays with her. Mrs. Lee drives her and Grandma home, but Isabel doesn’t come for the ride so Shelly’s alone in the back seat.

When they get home, Shelly tells Grandma she’s going to do her homework. She can’t stay in the kitchen and pretend she’s not sad about Isabel’s ghost. She pauses outside her mom’s room, wanting more than anything to curl up on the bed with the photo she took from the flowery frame. It’s still tucked away in her backpack. But if she goes into her mom’s room now, Grandma will know the ghost upset her. Grandma doesn’t need any more reasons to keep Shelly away from ghost hunting.

Shelly pulls herself away and heads to her room to play with the ghost cat and dog.

Estelle looks up at her when she walks in and says, “You’re home late, kid. Does your grandma know?”

“I was with her,” Shelly says, and leaves the room to work in the kitchen instead. She doesn’t feel like listening to her complain tonight. It’s easier to sit in silence with Grandma.

Grandma makes hot dogs for dinner because it’s quick and easy. She looks tired.

“Shelly,” Grandma says, setting the ketchup on the table. “I need to talk to you.”

Shelly swallows, hoping Estelle hasn’t given her ghost collecting away, and looks up at Grandma. “About what?”