Workers are rushing around, building sets and arranging lighting. A few sound people rush by. There’s a crash in the distance, and someone laughs. I stare up at the rafters. The soundstage is at least three stories high.

“Hayley?” Aubrey pulls on my sleeve.

When I look up, the three of us are standing in a corridor, but Paul and Amelia have vanished. The huge building has become strangely quiet, suddenly—all of the banging and hammering has stopped. The only sound is Salmon’s motor-like purrs. Maybe the workers took a coffee break all at the same time?

“Paul?” I call out. “Amelia?”

My voice echoes. No answer.

I feel a surprising gush of warm air. It’s like a blast you might feel if you’re on the sidewalk and a big truck whooshes by. But there’s no truck, obviously. No nothing.

“Wha…?” I whirl around. My heart skips a beat. “What’s going on?”

“Did you feel that?” Aubrey whispers.

Next, a light on the wall near Aubrey flickers. And then, a light near Cody clicks off, bathing us in darkness.

“Who’s there?” Cody exclaims.

But in the very next moment, the air turns frigid again. The lights snap back on. Even the hammers start back up at a regular rhythm.

“What just happened?” I whisper. Everyone looks freaked out.

Then I hear a new voice.

“Don’t panic,” someone says, “but I think you’ve just met the stage’s ghost.”

Chapter Two

When we turn, we see a scruffy guy in his early twenties. He wears a plaid work shirt and ripped jeans, and he holds a hammer in one hand and a walkie-talkie in another. I don’t recognize him from our old studio in the Valley.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer. “What did you just say?”

“I’m Mike.” He offers his hand for us to shake. “I build your sets. Worked at Silver for a few years now. You didn’t hear? Thought I already told you kids—it must have been another group.”

“Hear what?” I ask impatiently.

Mike smiles mysteriously. “Classic Hollywood story. Some people think this place is haunted.”

“Silver Screen Studios?” I cry. “Are you serious?” I feel nervous. Part of me wants to call Mom and Dad and tell them to come get me.

But Aubrey jiggles excitedly. “You’re kidding!”

Cody waves his hand and scoffs. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“There might be in Hollywood.” I look at my friend. “Remember that open-air bus tour we took last year? All the ghost stories they talked about?”

“Yeah, the piano player at that comedy club on Sunset Boulevard,” Aubrey adds. “The people would hear music even when no one was sitting at the piano.”