“Yes!” I grab the book, holding my concentration, and my stare, on my hand.This is easy!
“Hello?” Suddenly Raegan appears from the back brandishing a baseball bat. “Who’s in here?”Shedemands, her facenotat all fearsome.
Ilosemy concentration and my hand goes back to being useless, the book I was holdingsmackingloudly against the floor.I hold my hands up in surrender. “It’s me, Kennedy.”
Raegan peers around one of the bookshelves and finds me standing in the romance section. “Kennedy?” She lowers the bat, but her eyesremainwide. “How did you get here?”
I ball my hands and press them to my chest as I shrug with embarrassment. “I flew.Floated?”
She draws back, mouth agape. “What? Really?”
I nod.
“That’s…so cool! I’ve never seen the mayor fly.”
I’mmomentarily taken aback. “Wait, is the mayor still the same ghost from when I was a kid?”
Raegan smiles. “Yeah, MayorMusthaven.He’sbeen the mayor for like…” Her face scrunches as she tries to recall an exact number. “Since the town was founded, I’m pretty sure.”
It suddenly dawns on me that I have another resource besides Theodore, one I now plan toutilize. Ihadn’teven thought about there being other ghosts in Shadow Hills.
Without thinking, my eagerness taking the driver's seat, I rush to the front door. “Sorry I barged in,” I apologize. “I’ll just go.”
I take long strides back down the aisle, butRaegan’s voicestops me. “Wait!Idon’tmind the visit,” she says. “You can pop by anytime.” She purses her lips, looking at thediscardedbook on the floor. “Were you looking for something?”
I know she’s inadvertently asking if I’m alright, so I shake my head. “Nope. I’m just exploring. Testing my boundaries.”
Her facebrightens. “I’mglad. Let me know if you do need anything,alright? Even ifit’sjust a book recommendation.”
“Yep. Thanks!” I rush past her and toward the door, but Raegan speaks again.
“Hey.” Her tone shifts. “From what I know about Theodore,he’sbeen in that house for alongtime. He could really use a friend.”
I nod once, not sure what else to say.
Then I’m out the door and drifting down the street.
I have a mayor to see.
Chapter Thirteen
KENNEDY
Town Hall is smaller than I thought it would be.Everything seems bigger when you’re a kid, but I seem to have severely overinflated this particular building from my memory.It looks like anoutpatient facility, like one of those orthodontist practices that turns houses into offices.There’sa gilded plaque attached to the brick that clearlystatesTOWN HALL, so I knowI’min the right place, but the house looks odd, settled between thebrick-and-mortarbusinesses along Main Street.There’sa yard with a picket fenceand everything,not ten feet away from an ice cream shop.
Across the street, however, is the high school, and that place I remember perfectly. Classes atthe middleschooldidn’tstart until8:30, but dropping my sister off at7:15was part of our family’s morning routine. I hated having to get up so early for her, but secretly, I enjoyed the alone time I got with mom afterwards, just the two of us in the car listening to the radio. Sheusuallytook back roads to get us to the other side of town, which took way longer than ifshe’djust zipped up Main Street.Now, I wonder if she did that onpurpose, becauseshe enjoyed our time together too.
I feel as if moving through the gate would be rude, so I channel my energy into shifting into my physical form. Theodore was right, ittakes a lot, but Imanageto do it on the third try.
After pushing open the gate, I walk up the narrow sidewalk. According to the hours of operation displayed on the front door, it should be open, so Iturnthe knob, impressed by my ability to hold my form.
Inside, an elderly woman with bleach-blonde hair styled into a solid mass of curls andthick,purple-rimmedglassessitsat a desk, acrylic nails tapping loudly on a laptop. Without looking away from thescreen,she says, “Be with you in a sec,” her tone cheerful, andverysouthern.
I glance around the front room, taking in the classic office decor: abstract art on the walls, modern seating, stacks of unread magazines that are over a decade old(but not as old as Theo’s).The carpet is…different—somethingleft overfrom before it was an office, I assume—but clearly a choice.
The tapping sound stops, and I look over to see the woman closing the laptop dramatically. She meets my gaze. “How can I help you this morning?”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I answer timidly. “I would like to see the mayor.” Then, with a little more gusto, I add, “If that’s possible.”
