Nate took a long sip of his beer and looked at Riley, his eyes moving from her face to her tattoos. “Interesting. I mean, albinism has always been linked with mystical stuff. In folklore, the ‘pure white animals’ often have magical abilities. In some cultures, albinos are considered cursed and are shunned. But really, it’s just a genetic mutation—an accident that causes melanin to be improperly produced or distributed. Beautiful, unique, sure…but just genes.”

“It’s weird, though,” Helen said. “Don’t you think? That there are so many stories about a white doe in these woods going back years and years? I mean, if hunters were seeing her in the sixties, it can’t be the same deer, right? How long can one deer live?”

Nate scooted his chair a little closer to Helen, put a hand on her knee. “I’d have to look it up, but I doubt more than ten years, probably less,” he said. Helen reached down, took Nate’s hand, gave it a squeeze, then removed it from her knee.

“I’m telling you, it’s Hattie,” Riley said, rolling another joint. “Got to be.”

“Maybe it’s not just one,” Nate said, pushing his chair back again. “Maybe it’s hereditary. Maybe there’s a whole population of them out there. A colony of albino deer! Like the black squirrels in Toronto!”

Riley relit the joint and passed it to Helen. Nate gave her a quick frown. She took a deep hit, let the smoke seep out of her lungs as she smiled at Nate. “A colony of albino deer?” Helen said. “I hate to say it, but a ghost almost seems more likely.”

Riley smiled.

Nate narrowed his eyes, shook his head, and stood up. “I’m gonna go look it up. Do some research.”

“Sounds good,” Helen said. “Enjoy.”

They watched Nate jog back down the hill to the trailer, like walking wasn’t fast enough.

“Nate’s not a big believer in the supernatural, I guess,” Riley said as she lit a second joint, then took a hit.

“He’s very evidence-based. Scientific.”

“Not everything can be explained with science,” Riley said, passing the joint to Helen. Helen looked at the tattoos on Riley’s arms: a crow skull, an Egyptian ankh, a dragon encircling her left upper arm. Or was it a gargoyle?

“I agree completely,” Helen said. She thought of Hattie appearing in her kitchen last night. She was contemplating telling Riley about it when Riley changed the subject.

“I think it’s great that Olive’s spending so much time with you two,” Riley said.

“She’s a good kid,” Helen said. “And she’s really been a huge help with the house.”

“The truth is I’m kind of worried about her,” Riley admitted.

“How so?”

“My brother, her dad, Dustin, you’ve met him, right?”