“Hi, Grandma!” Kelsie says, when Lucy Mortimer opens the door for us, no longer in a wheelchair. 

“Hey, Squiggy.” Lucy says, patting Kelsie’s head. Everly comes to the door too, and smiles at us. 

“You can come inside for a bit, if you want. We have hot cider.” She says, waving us in. “It’s pretty cold out there.” We step inside, Tessa still having her arm linked with Henry’s. Jack and George sit in the kitchen, drinking cider from mugs. Jack waves at us, and George just nods solemnly. 

“She’s walking now?” I ask Jack as he stands up and moves to be next to me. I  gesture to Lucy. We start to walk around the sides of the living room and kitchen.

“Everly says it’s because George and I are back. It’s lifting her spirits.” He says, passing me a cup of cider. 

“That’s good.” I say, blowing on it. “Why aren’t you out there in a costume?” I ask, gesturing out the window. Jack laughs. 

“What are you talking about? I’m dressed as some fisherman’s kid from the 1910s.” He gestures to his clothing, and I laugh, playing along. 

“How did you get it to be this authentic?” I ask jokingly. 

“I stole it off a dead guy. Some handsome fellow who died 53 years ago.” I giggle, and sip my cider. “I like your costume.”

“Thank you.” I say, randomly twirling. I almost hit Jack in the face with my wings, and laugh. “Sorry. They’re a bit big.” Jack chuckles. 

“How did you even fit in the door?” He asks. 

“Everly had to get it off its hinges.” I joke. “But then I still didn’t fit, so she removed the roof, and had me fly in.” 

“So your wings actually work?”

“Obviously.” I say, laughing. My hands slip, and I accidentally spill some boiling cider all over my dress. I look down at it in dismay, my skin tingling from being burned. “Oops.” I say, flushing in embarrassment as Jack grabs a towel. I dry up most of the cider, but my dress still has a huge stain. Everly walks over to us, and grimaces when she sees my dress. 

“Come with me, Lara. I’ll get you something to wear.”

“I could just run over to my house to change.” I say. 

“Nonsense. I have some older dresses that no longer fit me, and I was planning to give them to you and your sisters anyway.” She leads me out of the room, and upstairs to the master bedroom. She walks over to the closet, and pulls out a huge paper bag, the kind they have at grocery stores. “You can have your pick of those to wear right now, and then I’ll send the rest home with you when you leave.” 

“Thank you.” I say quietly, and grab the first dress on the stack, a purple satin one that will go well with my wings. Everly leaves the room, and I quickly change into the dress, eyeing the red area on my stomach that is burned from the cider. I grab my ruined dress, and put it with the others in the bag, then carry the bag downstairs, sighing. Jack smiles at me as I set the bag down by the door. 

“One of your wings is bent.” He tells me, as I straighten up. 

“Oh. Could you fix it? I can’t reach back there.” Jack nods, and moves behind me. 

“Is that good?” He asks, stepping away. I turn to face him. 

“I can’t see my back, so I don’t know.” I say. “How do I look to you?” Jack stares at me for what seems like forever, then answers, looking down. 

“You look great.” He says, hands behind his back. After some awkward silence, I breach the question I’ve been wanting to ask for a while. 

“What was it like in 1910?” I ask with a smile. Jack lets out the breath he was holding, and looks up again. 

“A lot simpler than nowadays.” He says. “If you couldn’t tell, manners were a big part of everything.” 

“No, I couldn’t tell. You’re literally the rudest person I’ve ever met.” Jack smiles to himself. 

“That kind of sarcasm would make you the topic of conversation everywhere.” He informs me. I laugh. 

“Sarcasm? What are you talking about? I’m not sarcastic at all.” Jack smiles to himself. “Was George always as stiff and serious?” The smile disappears, and his face goes pale. 

“Not in life.” He says. “He was actually the most cheerful person around, and everyone loved him.” Jack says. 

“Why did he change?” I ask, as we sit down on the couch. Jack stares at the floor. 

“There was this girl. Elizabeth Morton. He called her Lizzie. They were going to get married when they were old enough and her parents agreed.”

“What happened?” I ask. Jack looks over at me. 

“It was right after I met you. As a ghost, I mean. You told me that I was dead, and so I found George, and we went looking in the town records, see what had happened to the people we knew.” Jack’s eyes fill with tears. “And we saw that she committed suicide after George died.” He bites his lip, closing his eyes, but a little shiny tear escapes, rolling down his freckled cheek. “She got in a rowboat, and went out to the spot where they all said his ship was sunk, and she…” He puts his face in his hands. “She drowned herself.”

“Oh my gosh.” I say, putting my hand over my mouth. “How awful.” 

“He’s never been the same since.” Jack says, looking over at his brother. When he turns back to me, I hug him gently, the soft cotton of his shirt against my face. He puts his arms around me. “Can we talk about something else now?” He asks, his voice shaky. I nod, and pull away. 

“We should go for a walk in the dark. Down by the ice cream shop.” I say. “After all the trick-or-treating is over.” Jack nods and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. I pick up my cup of cider from where I left it, and sip from it. 

“Are you sure you don’t need help drinking that?” Jack teases. I roll my eyes, and kick his ankle, smiling to myself.

“Kinda foggy tonight.” I say, leaving my house, and walking down the driveway next to Jack. I’m not wearing my costume anymore, just a white blouse and baggy jeans with a worn old belt holding them up. A knitted shawl covers my shoulders.

“Ghosts like this weather.” Jack says, hands in his pockets. We start down the road, past Isaiah’s police car. He honks at us, and gets out of the car. 

“Where are you going?” Isaiah asks, walking over to me. 

“The ice cream shop.” I answer. 

“But it’s freezing out.” He says. “Your mother wouldn’t approve of you being out late alone.” I point to Jack. 

“I’m not alone. And Mom already approved.” I say, then walk ahead with Jack. 

“Well, now you have a curfew. Get inside.” I glare at Isaiah. 

“You’re not my dad.” I say, and spin around. Jack walks next to me awkwardly. “Sorry about him. He’s the worst.” 

“I guess.” He says, and looks around. “You can barely see the moon, it’s so foggy.” He points out. 

“Creepy.” I say, nodding. The wind howls, and I shiver, despite my warm clothing. 

“Do you need my coat?” Jack asks, as we reach Old Turbrook’s dirt roads. I shake my head, rubbing my arms. “Are you sure?”

“Just a little chilly.” I assure him. The ice cream shop comes into view. Surrounding it is dozens of pale white ghosts. “Can you see the ghosts too?” I ask. Jack nods, and we walk closer. One of the ghosts turns and looks at me, then says in a piercing yell:

“A witch!” The ghosts all turn, and swarm me. I scream, trying to swat them away.