But I didn’t give in to Del, and I’m not going to give in to this impulse either.

For all I know, it’s a piece of Del that’s making me think this. Maybe a small unending tremble of confusion and uncertainty is going to be his legacy to me, the bit I have to carry forever.

So I call up another piece of the story.

Once upon a time . . .

Once upon a time, there was a girl who went into a dark wood, but she wasn’t scared of what she might find in there, she wasn’t afraid of ghosts or ghouls or hungry beasts, because she was a ghost herself.

Just a Ghost Girl.

I flinch when the grizzly’s paw strikes me.

Except it doesn’t. It goes right through me instead, as though I’m made of air. As though I’m just a . . .

Ghost Girl.

The bear roars with frustration and attacks me with renewed fury. Branches and pine needles and bits of rock go flying in all directions because it can’t touch me. It can only tear apart the ground I’m standing on.

Finally it stops and looks back at its mistress.

Mattie jumps up and runs to where I’m standing. She tries to beat me with her little fists, but they’re no more effective than the grizzly’s big paws and just go through me.

Mattie lets her arms fall to her sides. Her shoulders bow with defeat. But her eyes don’t give up. They burn.

“What do you want from me?” she cries.

“Nothing,” I tell her. “I just want to say I’m sorry.”

“I know, I know, I know, I know. You’re sorry. You were just a little girl yourself, and you didn’t know better. But now you do. Now you want to make it all up to me. Now you promise everything’s going to be better.”

I shake my head. “No. I don’t know that. I’m just sorry for what I’ve done to you. If I could take it back, I would. But I can’t undo the nightmare. I can only tell you how sorry I am.”

“Sorry doesn’t do anything.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“You’re just saying it to make yourself feel better.”

“I can’t imagine anything making me feel better about what I did.”

She turns away from me and reaches for the grizzly. When she touches his fur, he shrinks back down into a teddy bear again. Clutching him against her chest, she looks at me again.

“So, now you’re back to pretending you’re nice,” she says.

“I don’t think what I did was particularly nice. It was horrible.”