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“A pencil?” Nora asks me skeptically. She turns her back on me, pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee, which she sets on the island alongside bundles of herbs, a white container of lighter fluid, an enormous bag of salt, and mason jars full of oil .

“You didn’t say it had to be some kind of dramatic object,” I reply. “You said something that belonged to her. This Ticonderoga belonged to her.” I hold up the pencil in front of my eyes, and I feel a shiver down my spine as I imagine how Beth once held this pencil. Maybe she was full of dreams or maybe she was just grouchy about doing algebra. Either way, she was a living person, real as any of us, who didn’t deserve to have her life taken by a twisted boy on a lonely back road .

Yeah, I think the pencil has enough emotional juice for any kind of ritual we need to do .

“What’s this about opening a doorway to the afterlife?” Jax asks nervously .

“It’s not that bad there,” I tell him. “You’d definitely find your way to Heaven .”

“Why didn’t you then?” he asks me .

That’s a hell of a question, but all I do for now is smile. “Maybe one day, you’ll find out just how bad I am , Jax .”

Nora shakes her head frantically. “I’m not listening to two teenagers’ verbal foreplay. Hard pass. Let’s go release this ghost.” She gathers up some stuff in her arms and nods at the rest. “Make yourself useful .”

Jax glances toward me, his eyes curious and just a little bit skeptical, before he throws the bag of salt onto his shoulder. He shrugs. He’s along for the ride .

If what he sees tonight convinces him, I’ll feel a lot less alone in my new world .

She leads us through her house and down rickety steps into an overgrown yard .

The memory of Beth’s face—smiling at me just before she drifted away into mist—is one that I won’t shake for a long time. Maybe ever. I wonder if we’re doing the right thing when we push her out of this world and into the next .

I hope she finds her way into Heaven. I hope she’s happy, finally .

“How’d you become a medium?” I ask Nora as she kneels in front of a stone fire pit in the center of the yard. There are piles of gray ashes around the pit, as if she’s done this ritual many, many times before. And as if she’s a slob .

“This is not story time.” She’s intent on the fire she’s building .

“You can’t multitask?” I ask skeptically .

She pours lighter fluid onto the pile of wood and sticks in the center of the bowl. “The thing is, I don’t want to talk to you .”

She stands and lights a match, a bright yellow flame that flickers against the night, and then throws it on top of the lighter-fluid soaked wood. The fire catches instantly .

“I wouldn’t have expected you could use lighter fluid in a supernatural ritual,” I muse, gazing at the flames, which blaze up, caught by the wind. The lighter fluid tinges the air with an acrid scent. But it certainly makes it easier to start a fire .

The look Nora flashes me is dark. “There’s nothing romantic about any of this. It’s dangerous, and it’s ugly, and if you were smart, you wouldn’t want any part of it .”

Her words make me feel stupid, but I snap back, “I don’t think I get a choice .”

She ignores me, turning her back as she picks up the sand. She pours a circle of sand around the firepit, in a thick line. “First rule of communing with the dead: don’t break the salt circle. You’ve opened the world to demons, and if they escape the circle, they can bind to a ghost or to anyone without a defense .”

“What kind of defense ?”

“Someone on death’s door, someone sleeping,” she says impatiently .

“Someone in a coma?” I ask .

“Do you have one of those stashed in the car ?”

The look Jax gives me is alarmed, but hey, at least he seems to be a believer right now. I pat his arm. “Just stay awake .”

“I’m pretty sure I may never sleep again,” he mutters .

“Don’t worry, most people aren’t stupid enough to open portals to the afterlife,” she says. “There probably won’t be demons wandering through your dorm, looking for someone drooling on their pillow .”

“I didn’t think demons could enter a human form unless that person was close to dead,” I say, thinking of conversations with my sister .

“It depends,” she tells me. “A demon can’t take them over, but they can influence them and bring them to the edge of death, then enter their body .”

A shiver runs up my arms. “I want to talk about this more .”

“I don’t. Just don’t break the circle. It’s not rocket science. Even idiots can do this…” She shoots me a look that says, obviously .

But no matter how cool her voice is, there’s sweat beading her hairline, and her hands shake as she sets the bag of salt down. She notices me noticing, her eyes moving up to my face, and then she snaps, “Pour out the oil on the pencil and repeat after me. We have to call your ghost here before we can trap her in the circle .”

I unscrew the top of the mason jar. “How much oil ?”

“All of it .”

The oil pools in my palm and runs down my elbow, slick and disgusting, as I repeat her words. I pour out oil to bless you. I pour out oil to call you. I pour out oil to bring you home .

“Throw it in the fire,” she instructs, and I take a step forward and toss the pencil into the fire, careful to mind the salt line. The fire flares up .

Beth Calley is in front of me, a wispy figure, her head bent. My heart stops in my chest, and then she looks up at me, and she smiles .

“Goodbye,” she whispers .

She falls to nothing but smoke and tatters, and gray smoke curls up into the sky, the same color as the footprints she left behind in the hallway .

In the distance, there’s a faint rushing sound, something familiar that sets my heart racing. I listen more closely, trying to make out the words. Now I can make out the cadence of unfamiliar syllables. It sounds like chanting, far distant .

“Get out of my way,” Nora says gruffly, stepping forward with a hose. “When you reach into the afterlife, the afterlife reaches back .”

She douses the fire. The water runs out of the pit and soaks the salt, and she watches it fearfully as the last of the flames die. The sound fades away .

“What was that?” I ask .

She turns away, her movements jerky as she pulls the hose back toward the house. “ Demons .”

I think Nora would never admit to it, but she’s terrified .

“Have you seen a demon come through the portal?” I ask .

“Good night, Ash,” she says, heading back up the steps to her house. “You’re not taking up any more of my paying- customer time .”

“You don’t have any customers .”

“But I could .”

“No one wants to come to a place like this to get their palm read.” I gesture at the creepy surroundings. “You’d have better luck setting up in a city. Or heck, in a college town like where we are — ”

“The people looking for something real find me,” she interrupts, finally looking back at me, her hand on the doorknob. “That’s trouble enough .”

“You have a soft spot, don’t you?” I ask her .

“You couldn’t tell that from the fact that I put up with you?” she grumbles .

“I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” I tell her, just to hear her groan .

“So you’re embracing your life as a psychic?” she asks sarcastically. “You’re not really leaving your past behind ?”

“I’m doing my best,” I say, but it’s the biggest lie I’ve told in the past few days, and I’ve told quite a few .

“We’ll see about that, Ashley Landon.” She touches her fingers to her forehead in a mocking salute, then walks into her house. The door slams shut behind her .

“Come on,” Jax says, as we watch her go. He touches my lower back, the touch tentative at first, his fingers brushing my t-shirt, then suddenly confident. His palm on my back sends tingles up my spine. “Let’s get home .”

“College is home now ?”

“Might as well be .”

Might as well be, because that’s where we’re living for the next few years? Or might as well be, because that’s where we’re together ?

Either way, I don’t care. I lean my head on his shoulder, and together, the two of us head back toward his car .

Back to normal-as- can - be .

Which, let’s be real, is probably not very normal at all .