“What?” She avoids my eyes.

“Before screaming like a banshee, you were whispering. Like you were talking to someone.” My hands slide up and down her arms, as if to warm her.

She sighs and rubs her forehead. Briefly, she meets my eyes and then seems to give up and lets her gaze drop to the floor again. Her answer clocks in at just above a murmur. “Your grandfather.”

“My grandfather?” I’m so surprised that I let my arms fall and step back. “What does that even mean?”

Holly cringes and wraps her arms tighter around herself. “Sorry! I’m sorry. It’s just that my imagination was going haywire in the darkness. I couldn’t stop thinking about how there might be an ax murderer outside the house. Then, I reasoned that an ax murderer wouldn’t bother stopping by here because you’re never here, and how would an ax murderer know to show up this weekend?” The words tumble out so rapidly; I’m worried she’ll pass out from lack of oxygen. “So, that ruled them out. But then what about ghosts? This is just the type of dark, spooky situation where a ghost would pop out at someone in a horror movie. And, if a ghost were here, then it would probably be someone who died here. So, I just thought that maybe I should make a preemptive strike of kindness. Maybe your grandfather’s ghost wouldn’t jump out at me if I said nice things and thanked him and whatnot.” Halfway through her insane explanation, Holly started pacing, and by the end, she’s panting for breath.

I try to catch up with the mad train ride of her thought process. “You believe in ghosts?”

“No.” She hesitates and then shrugs. “Maybe.” A huge gust of a sigh leaves her, and finally, she holds my gaze. “I’m not saying I definitely do. But I thought it was better to be safe than sorry.”

I think back on the things she was saying when I came out of the bedroom—complimenting the house, being thankful that we could stay here.

In a weird way, it’s kind of sweet. Then, I imagine, if Grandpa Ben were actually a ghost, he’d probably grumble that scaring people was a waste of his time.

The thought has me grinning. Holly frowns at me, which only gets me laughing. She tries to glare, but a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

“So glad I’m amusing you.” Speaking is what breaks her stony expression, and a chuckle escapes.

I calm down, shaking my head at her. “I can’t believe you were talking to my grandpa’s ghost.”

Her smile fades. “It was insensitive. I’m really sorry, Ben.”

Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around her, not wanting her to beat herself up. “No. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized that sleeping here might be uncomfortable for you. New place. Out of the city. I get it. First few times I visited my grandpa, he put a night-light in my room.” I don’t mention that I was nine at the time. Don’t want to wound her pride.