Zane had agreed to meet up with Garrett again the following night, since it was a Saturday. He’d also asked his father if he didn’t mind having a local ghost crew over at Stilgarth Manor, and his dad had responded with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were curious about the lore. You’ve never been interested in ghosts before.”
“I’m not,” Zane said hastily. “Someone I know from school wanted permission.”
“Well, as long as they don’t destroy anything else in there, I don’t see why not. Apparently there’s been a lot of ghost crews who’ve trespassed over the years and done little to preserve what remains of the place, so I do appreciate them asking me this time.”
Zane coughed. “I was, um, also wondering if I could get a copy of the deed title to Stilgarth Manor, and some of the blueprints and stuff? Obviously not the originals, but something to prove that we currently own it?”
“And why exactly would a ghost crew need that?”
Zane couldn’t figure out how to explain it, so he decided to stick as closely to the truth as he could. “They want to try to communicate with the Gravemother, and they thought maybe letting her know that the deed to the manor is with us and not the mayor might help. I know it sounds ridiculous,” he added quickly, “but my friend, uh, is really into the supernatural and asked me for a favor, and I just wanna keep an open mind about it.”
He was half expecting his father to refuse and was startled to see him grinning. “It’s nice that you’re making friends here. You don’t usually go out of your way to do things for new classmates. If you’d told me a year ago that you’d be exploring a haunted house, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
A year ago I didn’t have the Gravemother stalking me, Zane thought. “So . . . you’ll let me have a copy?”
“I don’t see why not.” His father laughed. “As long as you get home before ten, you hear? I’ve explored old houses in my time, too; I get the appeal. But I’d rather you didn’t stay out past curfew.”
Zane sent Garrett a text confirming his dad’s OK. Everyone’s amped, so we’ll meet you at Stilgarth at seven, Garrett had sent back. Some more dots popped up on the chat, then vanished and reappeared as if he’d been writing something and thought better of it.
Don’t worry, he finally sent. We’ll figure everything out.
Zane stared at his phone and thought about how to respond. Garrett was one confusing guy. It wasn’t like they were friends. He hadn’t even apologized for all the crap he’d tried to pull during that first practice. But here he was, being borderline nice.
He’d said that he wanted to make things right, though. Sure, he had his own agenda for pacifying the ghost, but it almost sounded like he meant more than that now.
Sure, Zane finally texted. See you tonight.
“Are you out of your mind?” Emma screeched when Zane told her what they were planning. “You’re going there willingly?”
“I won’t be alone—there’s gonna be a bunch of people there, too. Ghost hunters. They’re used to this stuff.”
“Well, count me out. What are you even gonna do, run around and yell for her to come out and curse you?”
“There’s apparently scientific equipment they use to capture ghosts on video and audio.”
“Like a special spirit camera?”
“I thought you weren’t interested.”
Emma pouted at him. “I’m not! And even if I was, Dad said I’m too young. It’s a construction zone and all that.”
“Ha! So you are interested.”
“I don’t not want to see what the fuss is about, but I don’t think Dad’s gonna cave, even if I wanted to go. Not like I do.”
“You should hang out more with kids from school, though. What happened to that girl you mentioned, Sarah or something?”
“Sarah’s great, but what’s the point? We’ll be moving after a year again anyway, so it’s not like it’s worth the effort.”
“You really think Dad’s gonna sell the place?”
“Why not? We don’t have any ties to this town, even if our ancestors used to live here. And Dad gets restless.” Emma peered curiously at him. “Do you want to stay here?”
Zane hesitated. “I don’t know. But I like the idea that we’ve got a piece of paper telling everyone that we actually do have a spot here with our name on it. We’ve never had that anywhere else, just apartment rentals.”
“Even if it’s haunted and not fit to live in?”
“Even if it’s haunted and not yet fit to live in.” Zane hesitated. “You haven’t been seeing anything weird, right?” He didn’t want to use the word “ghost.” Emma might freak. But she got his meaning anyway.
“Uh, no? I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”
“I . . .” He couldn’t lie. He believed that the Gravemother was real, but he didn’t want to admit that to Emma. “Just making sure. I’m serious, though. Just because you think we aren’t gonna stay here long doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go out and enjoy yourself more. You can’t just hide behind books forever.”
“Watch me,” Emma said, and then stuck her tongue out at him.
• • •
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Zane took to exploring as much of the town as he could on his bike.
He already knew Solitude was a small town, and it took just over an hour to ride from one end of it to the other. There wasn’t much variety here: one post office, one school, one bookstore, one record store, a flower shop, a couple of boutiques, a hardware store, a diner, and two groceries, which probably felt like a luxury for most. It was quintessential Anywhereville, USA.
Zane stopped for a quick bite to eat at Tate’s Diner, which promised the best burgers and pancakes in town, despite being the only place serving burgers and pancakes in town, from what Zane could tell. It probably looked the same now as it had in the ’70s and ’80s, with its retro vibe. Zane settled on a cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake, and they’d just landed in front of him when a gruff voice broke his train of thought.
“You’re Will Kincaid’s kid, aren’t you?” asked the patron sitting beside him as he shoved french fries into his mouth. Zane didn’t know who he was, but his father had mentioned that people in smaller communities tended to be chattier. “The one who inherited Stilgarth Manor?”
“Yes, sir,” Zane said, swallowing quickly. Hopefully “chattier” didn’t mean “nosier” in this case.
“I’m Nell Hutch. Lived here for nearly fifty years now. We don’t usually have newcomers stay too long in these parts, so you and your family feel like a breath of fresh air.” He leaned forward, tone conspiratorial. “People have been asking if your family’s still set on selling Stilgarth to the mayor.”
“Um,” Zane said, “we haven’t decided yet.”
Mr. Hutch sighed and leaned back. “Lot of opinions on that deal floating around. Used to have an art gallery up on Merrick Street, till they increased our rent. Did it so they could kick us out and sell to the mayor, too. But even that little place I used to have was small potatoes compared to the acres Stilgarth Manor can give him. He’d been counting on that sale to lure more property developers into town. I know enough about big businesses to know the little ones are gonna go once those massive retail chains start popping up. I guess it’s the way of things, but I sure hoped our little town would last longer.”
Zane offered a sympathetic smile and turned back to his food. A few more people approached his booth to introduce themselves, and they all shared Nell’s opinion. Big retail meant more jobs and opportunities, true—but the mom-and-pop businesses here were likely to close in their shadow, and housing was bound to get more expensive with newcomers flooding in, and everyone seemed resigned to a fate they couldn’t avoid.
Unfortunately, Zane didn’t have any answers for them, either. It was a little uncomfortable, knowing so many people would be impacted by his family’s decision and weren’t shy about telling him so.
He remembered what his dad had said. Owning the manor didn’t make them responsible for a whole town; they had to make the best decision for themselves. But at what point did ignoring people’s concerns start to be selfish?
He counted the small businesses on the way home, noticing a few he hadn’t spotted before. He rode his bike past an arts and crafts shop. A bakery. An antiques shop, though the doors were now chained shut.
He thought about the big cities he’d lived in so far, with their large skyscrapers and gray walls and the sound of cars in traffic jams. He missed them sometimes for the energy and experiences they offered—Broadway shows, New York Comic Con, the US Open, Knicks and Yankees games—but he didn’t miss the anonymity, how people ignored each other on the streets. Solitude offered something different: A sense of community. Heart. A history.
It would be a shame, Zane realized as he looked around, to have all these mom-and-pop stores—places that had been there for decades—disappear.
The wind died and the air turned stale. Zane’s skin pricked, every sense on high alert.
A woman stood in the middle of the road, blocking his path.
Zane hit the brakes, his bike skidding to a halt. There was no one else present, and the woman was drifting closer, almost like she was floating and her feet weren’t touching the—
Zane glanced down and his pulse sped up.
The woman was floating. The tips of her toes dragged against the ground as she glided ever closer.
Zane spun his bike—wheels throwing up dirt at the speed he’d turned around—and began pedaling frantically away as fast as he could.
Why was the Gravemother stalking him? Garrett’s theory about the family connection made sense, but then why not stalk Zane’s dad? Why wasn’t she haunting any of the other townspeople with the frequency she was haunting him?
Emmy, came a voice from behind him.
Zane shifted up off the seat for momentum and pedaled and pedaled and pedaled, rounding the block until he came back up on Tate’s Diner, saw more people walking along the street. He relaxed, slowing down, and threw a glance behind him just to be sure he’d lost his tail.
The Gravemother was crouched on the bike seat, inches away from his face.
With a scream, Zane fell, the bike overturning. He landed in a heap on the ground and lay there, stunned, until he felt arms around him, helping him sit up.
“You all right, boy?” Nell asked worriedly. “Saw you take a nasty tumble. Badly paved, these roads.”
There was nothing sitting on the bike seat anymore, but Zane stared at it for a very long time before he was willing to mount it and venture home.