Joy can pretend with the best of them, compartmentalizing so well all in the name of functioning normally. Because inside, she’s still reeling from her talk with Malcolm. All those feelings are swirling within her, manifesting the perfect storm, just waiting to be unleashed. But not yet.

She chooses to grin and keep their small bubble of friendly conversation going. “Little bit. Okay, so you made a point about animals and bugs. You seem to be an authority on ghosts, so what about serial killers and witches?”

“Oh, if you think that’s what that noise was, it probably is a bear, then. Witches wait until night,” she says. “Um, do you like horror movies?”

Joy holds back a sigh. She gets the feeling Summer knows she does. Malcolm must have talked to her about last night, resulting in the idea for Summer to pretend like she doesn’t know Joy at all. This is going to get old, fast.

“Maybe.”

“Do you ever wonder why horror movies take place at night?”

The incline begins to kick in. Joy has to pace herself, focusing on deep breaths in and out. “Because it’s scarier.”

“Right, and it’s also a cop-out. It’s easier to build tension with the unknown if you can’t see it. The sun is a timer. Once it sets all bets are off. Gotta make it home before dark, you know?” She’s taking deep breaths too, but she’s not sweating like Joy is. “But things in the light can terrorize you just as well as things in the dark.”

“That’s a good point.”

At the top of the hill, the trail makes a sharp right, leading to a semi-circle clearing overlooking a long stretch of the woods below. The sun is climbing steadily toward high noon.

“Wow.” Summer’s mouth is hanging open. “It’s so beautiful.”

It really is. Joy climbed a mountain! Sure, it was really a hill with a steep incline, but Grace wouldn’t know that! She sits down on a bench, happy for a chance to catch her breath. She’s (hopefully) not infected with any residual ghost energy, but the walk did help her mood a little. Summer sits next to her, unclipping the water bottle from her belt and offering it to Joy first. She tilts her head back, pouring the water without touching the rim. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Summer takes a drink too. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Water under the bridge.”

“Is it really? You’re not mad? Malcolm said you were.”

“He’s not wrong. But I made the choice to not be.” Joy leans over and picks up a dandelion. “It puts me in a difficult position when you talk like you know me. It honestly makes me feel weird. There isn’t anything we can do about it so no point in dwelling on it.”