“No.” I stomped my foot. “Absolutely not. No one is ruining this for us, Bettina. Did you ever think that’s exactly what they want?” As I said those words, I realized it made perfect sense. “In fact—yes. Think about it. People throw around the term ‘Queen Bee’ all the time. Especially jealous bitches who hate that we throw an amazing party every year.”

A golden retriever came around the bend, huffing, followed by a woman wrangling the leash. We shifted to the side, said our hellos as they passed.

When the woman had gone, I continued, “Like Maggie Lewis. She’s been trying to shove her way into the spotlight with this party. Trying to make it some trashy weekend TV news feature.” You should tell her that Maggie mentioned Jackie. “She pouts every year that she’s not part of the planning. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was her spying on us around the bonfire, hoping to outdo us.”

Bettina looked dubious. She was walking fast. I had to push to keep up with her.

“I mean, what’s the worst that can happen here?” I asked. Eleven days left. “Come on, B. This is our neighborhood.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” We were back at the start of our lap. Bettina took a deep breath, then punched me lightly on the arm. “Come on. Let’s do another before I get stiff.”

We ran again, both of us faster.

This time I kept my gaze ahead, eyes forward. No more ghost woman in the trees. No more memories of the past.

Just my breath, my muscles, my will. Building stamina.

TWENTY-SIX

Theresa

A TV van pulled up to the curb outside our house just as I was finishing raking leaves. Maggie from the bake sale hopped out, waving enthusiastically.

“Nice work, sister,” she said. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

I wasn’t sure if she was referring to the bags of leaves, knotted and fat like blob creatures waiting for the bus, or our extensive Halloween decorations, but either way, she was right. I had been busy, and I was tired.

“Getting ready for the big block party?” she asked.

“You know it,” I said with a small smile.

“That’s why I’m here, actually. Halloween. I’m doing a segment.”

Maggie’s driver, who I suspected was also the cameraman, got out of the van and began fiddling with something in the back.

“Oh right.” I smoothed my ponytail. “I don’t think Kendra’s home now, though. You probably want to talk to her. Or maybe Bettina?”

“Actually, I really wanted to talk to you,” Maggie said. “You know, as the new neighbor coming in. Stuff like so glad to be part of this community, keeping tradition alive...all that jazz.”

She glanced up at our house, and I imagined our place as a story backdrop. It did have that imposing look to it, especially with the attic window.