Her mom is quiet for a moment, either thinking or concentrating on the road. “Ghosts aren’t just people,” she says. “I mean, they are, but they’re more than that—they’re people plus. They’ve been through everything you and I are ever going to go through, you know? They went through their whole lives and something kept them here even though they should’ve moved on to whatever comes next. Your grandma gets rid of ghosts because they’re out of step with the rest of the world.” She glances at Shelly. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

“People are afraid of ghosts because they know more than we do. They know what it feels like to live their whole lives and now they’re hanging in between here and the other side—not in one place or the other.” She shrugs. “I can’t blame people for not wanting to think about being trapped like that.”

“If someone can see you and talk to you, are you trapped?” Shelly asks. “We can see ghosts.”

“Sure,” says her mom, “but sometimes you might want to talk to someone else and you couldn’t. I mean, I’d never get tired of talking to you, Shell, but you might get tired of talking to me, don’t you think?”

Shelly looks at her mother and grins. “Yeah, I would,” she agrees. “I’d get bored. You’d have to let me have a pet then.”

Her mom laughs, and that’s the end of the ghost talk, but Shelly can’t help thinking that she’s wrong. Ghosts aren’t scary at all.

3

When they pull into their gravel driveway, Mrs. Potts is waiting by her front door. She lives in the other half of their duplex with just her two cats. Shelly’s pretty sure she and Grandma are about the same age, but Mrs. Potts wears a lot of cardigans with seasonal embellishments and keeps her gray hair short and in curls. It makes her seem older.

That and the cats.

“Hi!” Mrs. Potts says, as they get out of the car. Her cardigan today is black with orange and yellow felt leaves stitched to its front. Even looking at it makes Shelly feel itchy. “Amanda, I was just heading over to say hello to your mom.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy for the visit, Edna,” Shelly’s mom says, with a look on her face that says, Oh no, we’re trapped. Mrs. Potts is very good at talking. Her daughter is a police officer and visits at least once a week—Mrs. Potts likes to brag about her. “I could go grab her.”