Mabel

I couldn’t stop screaming at the sight of Maurice. Clara’s screams joined mine, and we both huddled together to scream at the top of our lungs. I couldn’t take the roller coaster anymore, and I couldn’t handle Maurice popping up out of the blue.

“Why are we screaming?” Clara demanded after a moment, her eyes wide.

Before I could point out the obvious, Santiago and the cop from earlier came rushing in, guns out and heads on a swivel. “What’s going on?” Santiago put a finger to his lips to shush us, and I swallowed down the tail end of my scream. “Did you find something?”

I turned to point, but the other side of the bathroom was empty. Maurice was gone, and I was realizing that no one else had seemed to see him. Which meant that admitting the real reason I’d been scared was a bad decision. Santiago and the other police would probably use it as more reason to make me seem guilty.

I straightened my shoulders and tried to look relaxed. “It’s nothing. We didn’t find anything. Just letting out stress.” I opened my mouth and screamed again. “See? Screaming is good for stress relief.”

Santiago looked at me like I was the weirdest woman he’d ever met. It wasn’t not true, but I’d be embarrassed if I didn’t have bigger things on my plate right now. He winced and said, “Okay. Well, next time, warn some people before you go through any other stress relievers. I’m outside when you’re ready.”

They left, and Clara turned to me with an impatient huff. “We’re alone. Now tell me the truth. Why were we screaming?”

Clara was my closest friend. We’d roomed together our freshman year of college in New York City—if we could survive living here together, we could get through anything. She’d seen me at all my highest and lowest points the past seven years. She would never judge me, I knew that.

Still, I knew what she would think as soon as I told her the real reason. Swallowing, I lowered my voice, just in case. “You really didn’t see him? He was right there.” I pointed to the spot where Maurice had appeared and then disappeared.

Clara looked around the bathroom. “Who?”

“Maurice!” My voice cracked as I tried to keep my calm. “He was right in front of you. Please tell me that you saw him too.”

“No?” Clara said, shaking her head. “I didn’t see anything, and besides, Maurice couldn’t be in here. He’s dead.” She gestured outside the door. “He’s out there in the lobby in a body bag, not anywhere near this restroom.”

“I know,” I told her. “That’s what I thought too, and I saw the body bag, but I’m telling you, I also know what I saw in here.”

Clara’s eyes were full of pity. She was worried about me, and I couldn’t blame her because if the roles were reversed, I’d feel the same. I put a hand on my chest. “Hand on heart, I swear that I just saw him.”

“I believe you.”

I could tell she didn’t by the way she was talking to me like I was a child. “But maybe we should go back out there and talk to the EMT. Maybe he can get you something.”

“Something?” I echoed.

“Yeah.” Clara smiled softly at me. “You found a dead body, and it’s been a huge shock. Maybe they have a sedative for you or something so you can get some rest. You stay here, and I’ll be right back.”

I watched her go wordlessly before crossing to the anteroom and sitting on the cushy bench in front of the mirror. I slumped down and covered my face with my hands. “It’s just shock. Just shock. Just shock.” I repeated the words out loud like a mantra. Maybe if I repeated it enough, I’d be able to believe it myself.

Sucking in a deep breath, I moved my hands and opened my eyes. To the room at large, I said, “Okay, if this isn’t me being in shock, and you are here, Maurice, then do something.”

My heart skipped a beat. I’d never believed in ghosts, and I wasn’t sure I believed in a traditional afterlife, either. But it was getting harder to explain to myself what I was seeing. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I kept talking to the empty restroom. “I’ve seen those ghost hunting shows, and I want proof. How do I know that you’re really here?”

Several seconds passed with no response, no ghostly figure. Nothing. Then the fluorescent lights overheard crackled. They flickered on and then off, leaving a hum of electricity that reverberated through my chest.

“Oh shit,” I breathed.

That seemed like pretty solid proof—now what?