There was a rustle of movement, the thud of something being dropped—maybe a bag or one of those big plastic pumpkins she insisted on dragging everywhere.
Then Winnie got louder. “Mom! Please hurry up! My beard isn’t sticking!”
I leaned back against the wall, head tipped just enough to catch every sound I shouldn’t have been listening to. Selene’svoice was too quiet to catch all the words, but it was warm. Light. It curled under my skin like heat from a long-forgotten fire.
Winnie giggled. “Austin’s gonna freak out when he sees you. You look so ghosty.”
I held my breath in the beat of silence. Something muffled. Selene must’ve said something back, but the words didn’t carry.
I heard the front door open—hinges groaning gently—and the slam of it closing. Their footsteps padded across the porch.
It was finally time.
I reached for the last piece of my costume. My hands shook a little—not from nerves, I told myself. From hope.
From trying.
From still loving them more than anything else in the world and finally doing something about it.
The porch creaked under my boots as I eased the door open. The night air was cool and sharp, the scent of crushed leaves rising up from the walkway. Porch lights blinked across the neighborhood in warm, flickering bursts. Jack-o’-lanterns flickered like quiet sentinels.
Selene stood at the edge of the porch, her hand resting gently on Winnie’s shoulder. For a second I forgot how to breathe.
She wore layers of gauzy white that shimmered under the porch light, the edges frayed like seafoam and storm-snatched lace. Her hair had been twisted loosely, wisps catching the breeze like kelp beneath the surface. A dusting of silver shimmer traced her collarbone. She didn’t look like a woman in costume. She looked like a legend pulled from the tide—like the Lady of the Dunes stepping out of a whispered dream.
I had tried to match that magic. Her eyes widened as she turned and looked at me.
A sun-faded button-up clung to my chest, sleeves rolled to my forearms, with flashes of my tattoos peeking beneath them. Worn suspenders crossed my back. I’d thrifted an old sailor’sscarf from the antique shop in town—sea-glass green and fraying at the ends. My hair was messier than usual, salt tossed, and as unruly as I could get it. I’d added a streak of fake dirt along my jawline, a few rips in my pants.
A shipwrecked soul from another time, lost and finally returned.
Her long-lost love.
I didn’t know if she’d recognize it right away, but when her eyes finally found mine, something in her went very still.
Winnie spun around, her fake beard askew and an enormous pirate hat tilting on her head. Seaweed dangled from her curls, tangled with a rubber crab. One of her sleeves was stuffed with cotton batting to mimic a missing arm, and a plastic hook jutted out like she’d won it in a bar fight. The best part—a fake eyeball on a string—bobbed against her cheek as she grinned at me.
“Ahoy!” she cried, jabbing the hook in my direction. “It’s the ghost of Shippy McShipface’s crew!”
I barked a laugh and crouched low, holding my hands up in surrender. “You’re terrifying, Captain. Can I take a look at you?”
Winnie beamed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Only if you walk the plank with us.”
I looked at Selene again. She hadn’t moved, not really. Just stood there, her lips parted slightly like she’d been caught off guard. Like she wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.
I didn’t speak. Not yet.
I just stood up slowly, brushing off my knees, and held out my hand.
Winnie’s grin stretched beneath the beard. “Told you, Mama.”
Her hook hand waved triumphantly as she raced down the path, seaweed streaming behind her.
Selene turned to me fully.
Her dress caught the breeze and fluttered around her ankles, the gauzy fabric whispering against the sidewalk like sea-foam lapping the hull of a boat. Her hair glowed in the soft light, haloed in strands of gold and pearl. Even like this—dressed as a ghost, her makeup hollowing her cheeks and smudging around her eyes—she was the most alive thing I’d ever seen.
“How did you know about the costumes?” she asked, voice fragile but steady.
