BRIDGE OUT OF ORDER. DO NOT CROSS.

The ominous message hung from a rusty chain suspended across the entrance. It was written in big red letters, the kind that mean Pay attention to me! No, really, this is important! Okay, it’s your funeral.

The river was wide but shallow enough to wade into if we wanted (I did not). A school of tiny fish moved beneath the surface.

Hailey scooped up a handful of pebbles as she talked about the latest video from some YouTube star. She and Jocelyn started pelting the water with stones, scattering the fish.

“So, what is there to do here in the summer?” June asked me, kicking at a large rock. It clacked down the bank and landed in the water with a dull sploosh.

I couldn’t answer her. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. Sitting curled up against one of the bridge posts was a small girl.

The others couldn’t see or feel her, but the chill inside me had spread to my fingers.

The girl wore a ragged nightgown, the old-fashioned kind that you see in movies. The hem was frayed and soggy. Her hair stuck out in a wild tangle, like a dandelion spirit’s. Her face was buried in her thin arms, the gentle swirl of water drowning out the sound of her crying.

The spirit’s misery pricked at my insides like needles of frost. Looking at her made something ache in my chest. She was just a little thing, probably younger than Matt. She didn’t seem angry, just terribly sad….

Pahua, don’t, Miv warned, and I realized I’d taken a step forward without meaning to.

“But look at her,” I whispered.

Fingers touched my arm, and I startled. Beside me, June raised her eyebrows and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said, too quickly. My thoughts scrambled for something to say. “I was just, uh, thinking about my brother.”

At this, the bridge spirit’s head twitched upward, and our gazes met. Even though tears streaked her cheeks, when she realized I could see her, her eyes narrowed warily. All the air around her felt like the inside of a freezer. I had to clench my teeth to keep them from chattering before forcing a smile for June.

“What’s his name? Is he back at the school?” June peered up at the sky, shielding her eyes with one hand while fanning herself with the other. She didn’t sense the cold.

“Matt,” I said. “And yeah, but he should be out soon.”

The ghost girl listened, distrust pinching her mouth.

“June, come look at this!” Hailey called. She and Jocelyn were crouched at the edge of the water, poking at something with a stick. Probably a frog.

June gestured for me to follow before joining the other girls. When I stayed where I was, Miv shoved both paws against the side of my head.

Pahua, he began. But then a soft child’s voice interrupted him.

You can see me? the bridge spirit asked.

Don’t answer her, Miv said.

The girl glared at the cat spirit. Her anger vibrated around us, intensifying the chill. I quickly shushed Miv.

My mom had told me that people should never speak to human spirits outside of a shamanic ritual. Sure, some of them might seem harmless, but if they latch onto you, there’s no telling what might happen. You could get sick or attract the attention of an even worse spirit and accidentally curse your whole family line with bad luck. Can you imagine your descendants blaming you for all eternity every time they stubbed their toe or a bird pooped on their shoulder?

But I couldn’t ignore this little girl. How long had she been bound here, alone, trapped by terrible memories? People like to ignore things that make them uncomfortable, as if not talking about something can make it go away. Feelings don’t work that way, though. Something about the spirit tugged at me, like a hook sinking into my stomach.

Why are you here? the spirit asked. She sounded suspicious but curious as well.

“To visit,” I answered, my feet seeming to move forward on their own. Actually, I was only here because June had seen me as more than an awkward kid who didn’t fit in. Maybe that’s what this spirit needed, too—for someone, anyone, to acknowledge her rather than pretend she wasn’t there, screaming to be heard.

Will you stay with me? she asked, head tilting. Those dark eyes remained fixed on my face, like she was anticipating my answer.

Miv batted the side of my head with his paw and tugged my hair with his teeth. I barely felt it. I was near enough to the spirit now that my shadow fell across her feet, tiny and streaked with dirt.

“Pahua,” June said loudly.

I glanced over to see all three of them watching me. Hailey and Jocelyn were snickering behind their hands. I went still as I realized how I must look, speaking to a bridge post. June must have called my name a few times.

Looking away, I pretended to fix the hair clip above my ear as I quickly whispered to the bridge spirit, “I can’t. My brother is waiting for me, but—”

I knew it. The little girl’s eyes shone with hurt even as she snarled, You’re just like everyone else. No one ever stays.

“Wait—” I began. I’d been about to promise that I would come back later, alone, but it was too late. The spirit’s face twisted with fury before she uncurled from her post and lunged at me.

Terrified, I threw up my hands. Miv hissed and launched himself off my shoulder at the spirit. Something jolted through me, like a shock wave that began in my chest and surged outward through my arms and into my fingertips.

An explosion of wind hurtled down the length of the bridge, screaming in my ears and stinging my skin. I gasped as frost collected in my hair. My heart pounded with fear. Ice bloomed at my feet, crackling down the rocky bank before spearing over the water’s surface.

The other girls screamed and hopped up and down. They slapped at the frost on their heads. June rushed over, tugging my arm, but when I didn’t move, she let go. Then they took off, all three of them fleeing into the woods.

It was only because my hands were still up in front of me that I saw a spiral symbol flash beneath the skin of my forearm. I blinked, and it disappeared. Had I imagined it?

The wind settled as quickly as it had come. When I finally lowered my arms, the spot where the bridge spirit had been was empty. Confused, I turned in a circle. I found only Miv, crouched low like he was about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. He was looking toward the woods, but the spirit was definitely gone, as well as the ominous feeling that had accompanied it.

Miv settled onto his hind legs. What in the worlds was that?

“I have no idea.” I sucked in a deep breath and released it again. I was used to strange things, but the ghost girl had been beyond weird. Maybe that was why you weren’t supposed to talk to human spirits—because the universe completely flipped out on you! “Was that normal?”

Not in my experience, Miv said.

I’d known the cat spirit all my life, and I often got the impression that he’d been around for a long while before that. He never talked about it, though, even when I asked.

I took one last look around, but I really was alone now, aside from Miv. The humidity had returned, and the ends of my hair, which had been frozen a moment ago, sent streams of cold water down my bare arms.

Remembering that I had to get back to Matt, I hurried down the trail to the school.

What a bunch of cowards, Miv muttered as he trotted beside me. A dandelion spirit had caught the cat’s tail and was riding it, waving their tiny arms like they were on a roller coaster.

It did annoy me that all three girls had just left me there. What if I’d been in danger? But I wasn’t surprised. “They were scared,” I said. “What did you expect?”

I cringed thinking of what they would tell their friends. Now I wasn’t just Pahua the weirdo who talked to herself and had tan skin and monolids. I would also be Pahua the weirdo who summoned a ghost in the middle of the woods. Great.

Miv sniffed. You were scared, too, and you stood your ground.

I swelled with pride at his words, even if they were undeserved. I hadn’t moved because I’d been paralyzed with fear. But it made me happy that he saw a version of me that was better than the truth.

Wouldn’t have happened at all, though, if you’d listened to me. But noooo, you just had to say something.

“At least no one got hurt. Where do you think that spirit went?” I asked. Maybe she haunted more than one spot—a two-for-one deal, like at the supermarket.

I’d always thought that human spirits who weren’t properly released into the Spirit Realm stayed tied to one place or thing. Or a particular moment. I knew a little about that—there were times in my life, too, that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to escape. Like the day my dad left us.

Sometimes I couldn’t stop replaying that moment over and over in my head. If I’d just said the right thing, or done something different, or gone after him…would he have stayed?

A nearby shout made me startle. Was that Matt? Miv shot off ahead, his tail a black streak, as I ran toward the sound. My sandals, damp from the frost, nearly flew off my feet as they crusted with dirt.

Miv reached him first. Matt was on his butt just beyond the playground, looking a little dazed. He was rubbing his elbow, which he must have jarred when he fell.

I helped him up. “What are you doing out here?”

“Class ended early. A teacher said you went into the woods with some girls. She told me to wait, but I snuck out to find you.” He brushed off the bottom of his shorts. “I thought I heard someone call my name, and I figured it was you, so I answered, but then something flew out of the trees and came right at me. I didn’t see what it was, though.”

Chills raced down my spine. It was probably nothing. Maybe one of the other girls had run into him, not seeing him in their panic. He was pretty small.

“Why’d you leave without me, dummy?” he asked.

He was lucky I loved him.

“Because you need a bath, and I wanted to escape the impact zone of your smelly feet.”

Matt grinned. He gave me a playful shove before taking off through the trees toward our apartment. “I’m going to put my shoes in your bed!”

I gasped and raced after him. “Don’t you dare!”

It didn’t take us long to get home. We waved to Mr. Taylor, who was reclining in a lawn chair out front. He was a thin, bald man with skin like crumpled paper. I didn’t know why he smelled like wet dog food. He didn’t have any dogs.

After lunch (ramen, as requested, fancied up with a boiled egg), we binged Voltron episodes all afternoon. Even if it was true that Matt was stuck playing with me, he didn’t seem to mind. When we got to his favorite parts of the show, he’d grin, grab my arm, and demand that I “Watch, watch this part. Pahua, are you watching?!”

And pretending was more fun with him, because he liked to add his own embellishments. If I were a superhero, he would be my car that could transform into a robot sidekick. If I were a witch, he’d be the frog I’d cursed to only say words that began with the letter G.

Anyway, he was happy, and he was way better company than those girls. He’d never abandon me in the woods, that was for sure.

That evening, as I washed dishes and Matt ate ice cream and watched Spirited Away for the two thousandth time, a high voice squeaked from the direction of the stove.

Something’s wrong with him.

Wisps of fiery hair glowed beneath the coils of the burner. The stove spirit had been hiding ever since we’d gotten home. He hadn’t even poked his head out when I was cooking. Most days, he perched along the back, reminiscing about real wood-burning stoves and how he’d enjoyed taking naps in the hot embers.

“Who, Miv?” I looked around for the cat spirit, but he’d disappeared. He liked to wander through the apartment building and spy on what the neighbors were doing. Later, he’d come back and tell me about Miss Masi’s latest Chinese TV drama or who had the best designs that week on Project Runway.

I realized then that I hadn’t seen the door spirit since that morning, either, and the only sign of the altar spirit had been the rustling of joss paper. Why were they all hiding?

What have you done, Pahua? the stove spirit squeaked. You’ve brought something wicked into the house. This is not good. Not good at all. Consequences will be paid.

My thoughts went immediately to what had happened at the bridge. Even though my hands were covered in hot, soapy water, I shivered. But that couldn’t be it. If the bridge spirit were anywhere near me, I’d feel her. Right?

The house spirits weren’t usually so cryptic. Normally, all they did was whine about the good old days, eat our offerings of rice, and hide things, like second socks.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, but the stove spirit didn’t reply. He had disappeared beneath the burner again.

It wasn’t until I put Matt to bed that I noticed he looked a little flushed. The house spirits were good about detecting illnesses entering the apartment. They must have sensed something.

When I touched his forehead, though, something jolted through me. I snatched back my hand. Matt didn’t notice. He was busy adjusting his blanket around him in just the way he liked.

He was burning up. But more than that, I’d felt…something else—a tug like a string pulled taut.

From the front of the apartment came the sound of the door opening and my mom’s voice. Relief flooded through me. She’d know what to do.

But when she checked on Matt, all my mom did was give him some Tylenol.

“Are you sure it’s just a fever?” I asked. I rubbed my palms against my shorts, wondering if I’d imagined that strange sensation when I touched him.

“It’s nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure,” my mom assured me as she put him back to bed. “We’ll see how he feels in the morning.”

“But don’t you think you should, I don’t know, do some shaman thing to make sure?”

My mom paused in adjusting the blanket around Matt’s shoulders. She got a funny look on her face, like she was remembering something unpleasant. Then she frowned at me and asked, “Why would you think he needs a ‘shaman thing’?”

My shoulders tensed. I didn’t want to admit that I’d disobeyed her by going to the bridge, so I only said, “I just think it’s weird. He got sick out of nowhere. He was fine this morning.”

The line between my mom’s eyebrows disappeared, and she smiled faintly. “People get sick for all kinds of boring reasons, Pahua.”

Times like these, I wished she could see spirits the way I could. When I was little, she’d believed Miv was an imaginary friend, because seeing animal spirits was unusual, even by shaman standards. I’d never told her the truth. She would believe me if I really needed her to—what worried me was what she might do about it.

When we’d been around Aunt Kalia in the past, I’d noticed that she was only able to see a limited number of human spirits. What would Mom do if she knew I could see and speak directly to all spirits? Would she freak out and have a shaman try to “heal” me to make the ability go away? In her effort to protect me from evil spirits, she’d block the good ones, too. I didn’t want to lose my best friend, even if no one else could see Miv.

Or worse, she might want me to become a shaman like Aunt Kalia. I definitely wasn’t cut out for that. Mom said it took a lot of focus and study to learn the rituals. I was terrible at concentrating. My mind wandered all the time, cooking up adventures more exciting than my current life.

And on top of that, I didn’t need to stand out even more at school. I was already that Hmong girl who talked to herself because she didn’t have any friends. I wasn’t about to also be that Hmong girl who rang a gong and chanted at altars. No thanks.

That night, I had a dream.

I stood before an enormous banyan tree. Its limbs stretched into the clouds, and the roots tunneled deep into the earth. Instead of leaves, the branches held thin strips of white cloth. Thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands.

The tree stood at the top of a mountain. All around was vibrant green forest. Rice paddies cascaded down hillsides and disappeared into mist.

From behind me, there was a thwack.

I turned. Nestled among the roots was a vegetable garden. A woman wearing knee-high red rubber boots was bent over a row of cucumbers, jabbing a hoe at the weeds. A thick black braid fell over her shoulder as she worked.

Suddenly, she paused, and her head tilted, as if listening for something. Then she reached up and pulled a strip of white cloth from thin air. It glowed a little as she turned it in her hand.

I stepped forward to get a closer look. My foot kicked a root. At the sound, the woman whipped around and peered straight at me.

I froze. Even though this was only a dream, I felt a moment of panic. It was like that time two girls at school used the bathroom to talk about finding zits in weird places, not knowing that I was in the last stall. Like then, I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be.

The woman’s golden skin was strange—puckered with seams and knotted like the bark of a birch tree. Her eyes, pale and watery like sap, widened at the sight of me. Maybe she was the banyan tree’s spirit?

“You!” She had a voice like dry kindling. Her skin cracked a little. “You’re the one who escaped.” She hurled her hoe to the ground and stalked out from between the cucumbers. She was very fast for someone made of tree bark.

“I—I think you’ve got the wrong person,” I said, edging away from her.

She smacked her papery lips. “I had you for nearly four millennia. I’d know you anywhere. Get back here!”

My heel bumped a root, and I gasped, falling backward. I hit the dirt with a pained oof, and then my eyes opened.

I was in my bed again, staring up at my ceiling, which was already streaked with early-morning sunlight. My heart pounded. I half expected the tree woman to burst from my closet. But I was alone, with only the echo of her words ringing in my head.