He looks away. “I can’t tell. Just go away, okay? I’ll stop. I promise. Just go back to what you were doing.”

I grab his arm. “You have to tell me. Everyone’s just behind the crates. In seconds, I’m going to call out that you’ve done it. But if someone put you up to this, you have to tell me who it is.”

Mike shakes his head stubbornly. “I can’t, Hayley. I’m sorry.”

Footsteps sound from the other end of the corridor. A flashlight snaps on, and its bright light makes me squint. A few figures press forward, and I hear a familiar voice boom, “I can’t believe someone would do such a thing. I’ve said all along this ghost is a hoax. This man should be punished.”

It’s Mr. York, the big-time producer. Paul, Amelia, Aubrey, and Cody are following him, but he’s leading the way. It’s surprising. I hadn’t realized Mr. York was on set today. And how had he gotten here so fast? Why is he at the front of this group? Is this because he knew about Betty from his old show? Only, that doesn’t quite make sense either.

Something isn’t sitting right. I stare from Mr. York to Mike, then back again. How did Mr. York even know I was searching for the ghost? I hadn’t said that’s what I was doing. And sure, Mike had confessed just now, but we hadn’t been talking loudly enough for anyone else to hear.

“Wait a minute.” I look at Mike. “Is Mr. York the one who put you up to this?” I point a shaky hand at Mr. York. “Is he making you pretend to be a ghost?”

Mr. York reels back. “Excuse me?” He puts his hands on his hips. “That’s a serious accusation, Hayley. I think you should apologize.”

But I can tell by the look on Mike’s face that I’m right.

“Oh my goodness,” I whisper. I think about the episode we’re almost done shooting. About how it was all about who was friends with whom and who owed someone else a favor. I think about how, in one of the scenes, Sadie spotted Mrs. Archer, the librarian, and Mr. Grimes having dinner at Candlelight. One of her lines was that she didn’t even realize the two knew each other.

And then I remember just an hour ago—seeing Mike and Mr. York walking back from lunch. I’d thought about what a strange pair they’d made. They didn’t seem like they’d be friends. It’s exactly the same.

But maybe they aren’t friends. Maybe they were talking about ghosts.