“Yeah, I—I just—” I brushed the dirt and leaves from my clothing. “How did you find...?”

“Sound travels around here. I heard voices.” He checked over my shoulder, and I followed his gaze. Ellen, coming down from the bridge. In her all-black garb, she almost blended into the landscape. A spirit-shadow.

I dropped Greg’s hand, not sure if she’d been able to see.

She stopped in front of us and sized us up like we were strange wildlife she’d stumbled upon. I was about to introduce them when Greg spoke. “Out here in the dark again?”

She curtsied, then grinned sarcastically at him. “Yes, Father.”

SIXTEEN

Theresa

Father?

I was still trying to regain my footing, literally and figuratively, as Ellen’s word hovered in the air between us. I turned to Greg. “She’s your daughter?”

Greg looked confused. “Last I checked.”

“I thought...” I trailed off. “I thought your name was Nora.”

A memory, unearthed from long ago, of a giggling little girl. Chasing her into a dark bedroom, a flash of silk hanging out of a drawer. Come out of there, Nora, we aren’t supposed to be in here—

Ellen rolled her eyes. “Nora was such a childish name.”

Hadn’t Nora, the little girl I’d known, been precocious? I remembered when I’d played board games with her a few times, she asked me to rewrite the rules in Chutes and Ladders—not to make the rewards more lavish, but to make the punishments harsher.

“Eleanora is her full name,” Greg said. “But she decided on Ellen a few years ago. I guess it sticks now.”

“I had no idea,” I said, feeling foolish.

“Why would you?” Ellen asked in a snappy tone. Her eyes fixed on me, brimming with hostility.

And then, as quickly as it had come, her expression changed. A fast smile, shoulders relaxed—so warm I must’ve imagined the other. “It’s been so delightfully fun, kids, but I must be off,” she announced. To me, she added, “I trust my father can lead you out.”

She disappeared down the path.

“I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection,” I murmured once her footsteps faded.

“Well, she was like three feet tall the last time you saw her,” Greg said. “And a lot less sarcastic. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

We reached a narrow part of the path, and Greg grabbed my arm to steady me. The familiarity of that gesture, how effortlessly we attuned to each other even after so long, was a little unsettling. The path widened and led us back out to the lake, where the houses along the water were all lit up. Shadows moved across the frames, families watching television or making food, doing homework.

“So tell me,” he said as we walked around the lake. “Why are we meeting in the woods, like old times?”

I laughed. “Habits die hard, I guess.”