Every light bulb in the apartment was smashed, leaving shards of glass scattered in rings across the floor. In the light of day, Eve was more annoyed about it than she’d been the night before. She shook her head at Harvey as she swept up the glass.

“Do not step in any of this,” she said. “It will hurt your paws, and I don’t know where the nearest vet is. Inconsiderate fucking ghost.” Chelsea was well on her way to making Eve regret what she’d said the night before. If she were slightly less bothersome, Eve probably wouldn’t have said it at all. She was already more involved than she’d wanted to be. But she wanted her life to go back to normal, and she wanted to stay in Blackwood, which meant she needed to get rid of the ghost.

Part of her wanted to talk to Ezra Park. If she was going to try to help a ghost “move on,” she wasn’t going to do it alone. A nosy reporter could be helpful. He could be annoying, too. Still, he’d believed her, and he seemed to want Chelsea to move on as much as Eve did, though for different reasons.

Popping open an energy drink, Eve sat at her desk and opened the Blackwater Review website again. The artificially sweet liquid tingled as she swallowed, carbonation fizzing up. The Review had a main number, but not a specific line to Ezra. Bleh. Until their business hours started, she searched for ghost lore and sipped her drink.

There was a lot of it online, mostly in the form of those stupid ghost hunter shows. The veracity of their information was…questionable. There wasn’t exactly a well-documented, peer-reviewed way to deal with a ghost. Eve wanted evidence, control groups, statistically significant results. As a last resort, she sent a text to the family group chat, “Know anything about ghosts?”

Her dad responded only a minute later, first with a sunflower emoji, and then with, “Of course!”

“Which culture?” her mom asked.

“Ours, I guess,” Eve texted.

“Are you getting involved with the local paranormal scene? :) :)” came shortly after, from her dad.

“No, my apartment is haunted.”

“Oh no :(“

“Many people believe burning sage can cleanse a home.” Her mom was warming to the topic, and Eve sighed. “Though if you’d like to use sage, I would recommend looking into its use by Indigenous cultures and finding an ethical source.”

Eve sent them a thumbs up and put her phone down. That had been about as helpful as she’d expected. Though her parents were folklorists and professors, they were also, well, themselves. The same people who couldn’t remember to pay their bills unless Eve nagged them and routinely ignored the mundane affairs of regular human life to hide in their lore and myths. They knew a lot, but if Eve was honest, they were useless in the real world.

Harvey jumped up into her arms and settled himself on her shoulder as she stood and walked to the kitchen.

At 9:13 AM—she didn’t want to seem too eager—Eve called the Review and told them that she wanted to let Ezra Park interview her about finding Chelsea Horton’s body. The person who’d picked up transferred her, and she waited, staring into her freezer and debating what to have for breakfast.

“Ezra Park, Blackwood Review. How can I help you?” he said. The practiced line was much smoother than the way he normally spoke, and Eve coughed a little to cover a laugh.

“Hey, it’s Eve Donnelly,” she said. He made a sound of recognition as she continued. “Do you still want to talk to the ghost in my apartment? We can team up and try to ghost-investigators this shit.”

There was a pause. “Oh, um, okay,” he said. “Like, now? Or do you have stuff to do? Or…” he trailed off, and Eve stepped in.

“I mean, my job is pretty flexible, and I’d like to get this taken care of ASAP. Last night all my light bulbs exploded.”

“Oh.” Ezra hummed, and Eve heard a papery sound on his end of the call. “Uh, well, I’m available all day today?” His voice went up at the end like he was asking. Quietly, he spoke to someone else. “It’s research for a story,” he said, muffled slightly.

“You can also interview me about finding the body if that helps,” she said. He was quiet for a second, and Eve was about to ask if he’d heard her when he spoke.

“Sorry, I was nodding and forgot you can’t see me.”

This time, Eve did laugh. “Do you want to meet somewhere? I have to pick up lightbulbs first.”

“Uh, do you like coffee? Or tea or something? The Blackwater is pretty good?” Ezra kept ending all of his statements with that questioning tone, and Eve closed her eyes.

“Yeah, sounds good. 10?”

“Huh?” Ezra asked. “Oh, yes, 10 works for me.”

“See you then.”

Eve hung up and closed the freezer. She set Harvey on the counter and patted his head.

“Watch the apartment for me,” she said. He meowed. “And don’t get into trouble.” The cat blinked once at her, and she raised an eyebrow. “And don’t let the ghost break all my shit.” A cold breeze moved over her bare arms and neck, and Harvey meowed again.

***

Eve headed to the Blackwater Coffee House after picking up ten boxes of light bulbs from a disinterested Pearson, whose only remark was a gruff, “If the electricals need fixing, let me know.” The same barista, whose name tag read Maria, was there, though this time she didn’t get distracted and left enough room for cream in Eve’s large mug of coffee. It was a little before 10, but that was fine. It gave Eve a chance to enjoy the quiet, with no one trying to talk to her or acknowledging her existence in any way. Sunlight spilled into the cafe from the wide windows and lit up the pale tables, the soft green accents, the plain white mugs and their rising steam. Eve hated to admit it, but in the bright morning light, even modern and minimalist decor looked good. Could have used a few pretty rocks, though.

At 10 exactly, Ezra walked in, scanning the room. Eve wondered if he’d been waiting outside. She nodded when he met her eyes, and he looked down. His hair, normally down to his chin and almost the same length as Eve’s, was half pulled back in the same style as hers. At least it wasn’t the same color.

“Small Earl Grey, please,” he said at the counter. When he had his mug, he came over to Eve and stood by the open seat. “Is it okay if I sit here?” he asked.

“Where else would you sit?” Eve said. “Yeah.”

Ezra folded his gangly self into the chair and jiggled one of his legs. He glanced at her and looked away when he saw she was watching him. He chewed one of his fingernails.

Eve didn’t let him suffer for too long. She’d met weirder people at the folklore conferences her parents had taken her to, and one socially awkward reporter wasn’t enough to faze her.

“Why do you believe me?” Eve asked, to break the silence. If some random had told her their apartment was haunted by the ghost of a recently murdered woman, she would have called them a liar.

Ezra blinked and looked off to the side. “Oh, I just, uh,” he said eloquently. He shrugged and looked at her like he was specifically not saying something.

Eve narrowed her eyes at him. “…Okay.”

“Why do you want to work with me?” he asked. “You didn’t even want to talk about it before.”

“I want to un-haunt my apartment.” Eve pursed her lips. “And you want to help her, right?” Ezra nodded but didn’t look at her. “Speaking of, I met Kyle the other day,” she said, with emphasis on the name. “He’s…interesting.”

“I can’t for the life of me understand why so many people love him,” Ezra said, finally looking at Eve and shaking his head. His eyes widened, and he stammered, “That is, uh, you don’t like him, do you?”

Eve laughed and leaned back in her chair. “I don’t.” Ezra laughed a little, breathlessly, and calmed down. “He asked for my number directly after talking about how sad he was about his dead girlfriend, so I think he’s a creepy fuckboy.” She shook her head. “Also, dude thinks a werewolf killed Chelsea.” Eve laughed again. Ezra’s eyes widened. “He said she went missing on a full moon, and that she had bite marks on her, so that’s why he thinks it was a werewolf.”

“Okay,” Ezra said slowly. He was gripping the handle of his mug so hard his knuckles stood out, pale and bony. “Those are both true.”

“What made him think she was bitten?” Eve asked.

Ezra scratched his forehead. “She was, though.”

“But Kyle didn’t see her body at the beach,” she said. “And he specifically asked me if she’d had bite marks on her.” Ezra’s mouth opened slightly and he raised his eyebrows. “I told him that was a weird thing to ask.”

Nodding, Ezra sat back. “Unless he had a reason to believe that already.” He looked around as he thought. “He’d only know for sure if he’d seen the body before you found it.” Ezra met her gaze. “He has to know more than he’s telling.”

“It’s possible he’s just legit delusional and made a lucky guess that supports that delusion, but it seems more likely he’s involved and is trying to deflect attention in the stupidest way possible.”

“You should tell Detective Ishida,” Ezra said. “She gave you her card, right?”

Eve made a ‘bleh’ sound but nodded. “Yeah, probably.” She finished off her coffee. “Anyway, we should figure out what to do vis-à-vis the ghost.”

“Would it be alright if I checked out your apartment?” he asked. “It might be easier if I see first hand what’s going on.”

“Sure.” Eve shrugged. “First though, give me your phone.” Ezra pulled his phone out of his pants pocket and handed it to her with a questioning look on his face. Eve texted herself and handed the phone back. “Now I don’t have to call the newspaper to talk to you.”

He blinked and accepted his phone. “Okay.” Downing the rest of his tea, he stood and took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m ready.”

***

Eve unlocked her door to the sound of Harvey yowling and turned to Ezra with a long-suffering look. He glanced around the living room and kitchen curiously but stayed by the door.

“Has your tap been on this whole time?” he asked, glancing at Eve. She sucked her teeth and kicked off her shoes before heading in to turn it off.

“I fucking told you not to do that,” she said to the air. She looked back at Ezra, carefully taking his shoes off and setting them neatly by the door. “No, it wasn’t. At least, I didn’t leave it on.” This was said accusingly as she glared into the corners of the room. Harvey flounced over to Ezra, still standing in front of the door, and sniffed his ankles.

Ezra smiled hesitantly at the cat and leaned down. “Hi, Harvey,” he said, his voice high-pitched and sweet with familiarity. Harvey pushed his face into Ezra’s hand.

“Right, you already know him,” Eve said, watching them interact. Ezra straightened abruptly and cleared his throat.

“Ah, yeah,” he said. “Chelsea mentioned him a few times.”

Eve stared at him for a second. That level of familiarity was more than just “mentioned a few times.” She didn’t mention it. “You can come in, you know,” she said, beckoning him closer. “Do you want anything to eat or drink? I have…” she paused, looking through her fridge, “energy drinks, water, or instant coffee.”

“Water is fine, thank you.” Ezra inched closer until he stood near the kitchen table. “I’m a little sensitive to caffeine.”

“That sucks,” Eve said, and she handed him a cup. “Lately I feel like I wouldn’t be able to function without caffeine. You can look around if you want. She doesn’t do much, but like I said, last night she made all my lightbulbs explode.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t an, uh, electrical issue?” He leaned down to look at an outlet.

“Could be.” Eve ripped open a box of lightbulbs and screwed one into the standing lamp in the living room. It lit up immediately, and she turned to Ezra. He hummed. “Yo, ghosty,” Eve called. “Can you make it flicker or something?” She frowned and added, “Gently, please.”

The light flickered.

Ezra’s eyes widened, and he inspected the lamp. “Huh, that is…interesting.”

“Mostly she just nags me,” Eve said. “Been otherwise chill so far.” Ezra took a deep breath and straightened up. He swallowed and blinked rapidly.

“Ah, okay. That’s, hmmm,” he said. His eyes widened more at a jingling sound coming from Eve’s bedroom. A sparkly, mouse-shaped cat toy with a bell on the end floated out, pulling its dangle-stick behind it. Harvey leaped at the toy, knocking it out of the air.

“What, you want me to play with him more?” Eve asked. “Why don’t you do it, Miss Telekinesis?” A patch of chill passed through the room, and Ezra shivered.

“Have you tried talking to her?” he asked.

“I talk to her all the time,” Eve said. “She’s annoying as shit and keeps fucking with my stuff. But she’s never talked back.”

Ezra frowned at her. “This is the only way she has to communicate,” he said. “I”m sure she finds it annoying, too.” Eve scoffed, and Ezra let it go. “But maybe we can give her another way to talk to us.”

“Like what, a spirit board?”

He nodded. “That could work, right? Or we could try doing a seance.”

Eve rolled her eyes and sighed. “Spirit boards work because of unconscious, involuntary movements,” she said. “And seances rely on ‘mediums’ who are very, very good at reading people and those people’s brains connecting dots that aren’t there.”

Ezra tilted his head. “How do you know all that?”

Pursing her lips, Eve looked away. “I just do.” She paused and then scowled. “Fine,” she said. “We’ll need lots of candles and whatever Chelsea’s favorite food was.” She paced along the length of the kitchen. “We’ll do it at night, for the proper ‘atmosphere’—“ here she moved her fingers in scare quotes— “and see what happens.”

“I can get the food and candles,” Ezra said, raising a hand.

“Great,” Eve said. “Then meet me here at 10 tonight, and we’ll give this shit a shot.”

“Yes!” Ezra said, his earnest enthusiasm and tiny little fist pump washing over Eve in a horrible wave of positivity. “We can do it!”

Eve ushered him out quickly, taking the empty cup from him and all but pushing him out the door. She closed it behind him and let out a long sigh.

“This is all super fun,” she said, leaning back against the door. “Thanks so much for haunting me.” The only response to her sarcasm was a gentle stirring of cold air near her hands. It felt like nothing so much as soft, intangible fingers intertwining with hers.