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My brow raised with intrigue. I hadn't actually given much thought to the personal details about who Ethan Ward actually was, assuming he’d always lived here in Seattle. “Really, where did you move from?” I asked.

“New York. I–” Ethan’s voice trailed off, and his steps slowed as he averted his eyes. “I’m from New York, but, well…I moved here when my Dad passed away. Cancer.” He turned and smiled softly at me, but the familiar pain behind his eyes was clear. “It was slow, so we had time to say goodbye, which I guess is supposed to be a gift, but…it also meant watching him fade for months…”

My stomach knotted, and I choked down the lump forming in my throat. I gave him a consoling smile, understanding him more than he knew. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I–...”

Don’t, I thought, tightening my throat before the words could get out and put myself at risk.

“I also lost my Dad…pretty recently, actually.” The words spilled out. It was the first time I’d even admitted that out loud to myself, let alone someone else. The words didn’t even seem real.

Why did I say that?

Something about Ethan made me feel…safe. Like, anything I told him wouldn’t have shaken him. But I knew that wasn’t true if he actually knew who I was—what I was.

Ethan’s hand lightly rested on my shoulder. “Evie, I’m so sorry…”

Neither of us said anything for a moment, and we didn't really need to.

Ethan’s eyes met mine, and I saw it there, lurking just below the surface. That same hollow ache I carried inside. The one that never fully went away.

That was the thing about grief, and its constant reminders everywhere. Always cropping up in the places and moments you least expected: the pier, Pike Place, under the ocean, or with a man you couldn’t seem to get off your mind.

Ethan shook his head, frustrated. “See, there I go again, making it weird…” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, forcing a smile. “It’s nice…to talk to someone who gets it.” I pushed him playfully. “Well? Are we going to go see the creepy downstairs or what?” I laughed, gesturing ahead.

Despite how well I was hiding it on the surface, inside, my chest had cracked open, spilling out all the emotions I’d locked away. I’d drown us both if I weren’t careful. But in a world where I felt so alone, it felt good to be understood, even for just that moment.

“You got it, let’s go.” Ethan nodded and pointed toward the glowing neon sign labeled Down Under, adorned with a big hand that pointed toward the stairs. “This should take us to the lower levels,” he said with excitement.

Carefully, we descended the stairs and stepped into the middle level. We were met with a buzz of voices and neon signs covering the walls, enticing potential customers to come inside. The smell of old leather, brine, and freshly made candles filled my nose.

Ethan's voice was elevated, excitement spilling out of him like a little kid, and I couldn't help but grin.

“I read up on the history of this place last night. It’s full of vintage antique shops, vendors, and restaurants. You can even see some of the original storefronts from the early 1900’s. Oh!” He paused and turned dramatically. “And, it’s haunted by ghosts.” He grinned, shrugging. “Allegedly.”

There was something charming and cute about seeing him so excited like this. “So you believe in ghosts?” I asked, eyeing him skeptically.

“I mean, I've never seen one. But my life’s rule is to never rule something out just because you haven’t seen it.” He grinned. “Gotta keep an open mind, right?”

“Right,” I replied, swallowing down the irony that he had no clue he was looking right at one.

Making our way to the last level, we stepped into a large open space. This floor was far less crowded, and the air was much cooler here.

Ethan shivered, and I pretended to do the same as we made our way through the narrow shops. Whether it was from the magic or because I’d died, the cold just didn't affect me anymore. Yet another reminder of what happened to me.

“Oh wow,” I said, my voice elevated with true excitement. The passageway was narrow and lacked enough overhead lights, but the glow of the neon signs outside the shop’s entrances was strong enough to light our path.

Swarms of vintage signage lined the exposed brick walls: Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, World Famous Giant Shoe Museum, and my favorite, the Pike Place Magic Shop.

The memories flooded back instantly as I stared at the glowing neon signs and vintage freakshow posters.

I used to love going in there with Mom and Dad as a kid, I thought, half expecting to see them in the wandering crowd.

“It’s really cool, right? It even smells old and historic here,” Ethan said, raising his brows and nodding sarcastically.

“Uh, I think that’s just black mold, but I get what you mean,” I said. We both laughed, and I stole a lingering glance, realizing how much taller than me he was.

God, when was the last time I laughed like this with someone? Even though Ethan was a means to an end, I let myself pretend, even if just for the moment. Pretend that I was just a girl on a date with a boy who made me feel something besides the pang of hunger or the revenge that burned a constant hole through my chest.