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millimeter by millimeter. “I’m going in. See if he’s here. Then you’re coming in to talk to him.”
    â€œWait! I’m not mentally prepared for that yet.”
    â€œBoo-hoo! I wasn’t mentally prepared to die.”

Chapter Five
    Jimmy steps through the door, leaving me jumping on the spot to keep warm. A car rolls down the winding street, its headlights illuminating the conifers and precision-cut hedges. I dive behind a potted plant until it passes.
    Minutes later, he bursts out of the door and runs onto the thick lawn. He’s sweating. Somehow, a ghost is perspiring and looking unnerved.
    â€œWhat happened?” I whisper, drawing him into the shadows.
    He looks at me blindly, mumbling, “Just stars. That’s all there is. Stars.”
    I screw up my face. “Stars? What do you mean?”
    â€œIn his room.” Jimmy groans. “Just stars.”
    â€œWell, that makes a whole lot of sense,” I say dryly.
    â€œHe’s not in there. Only stars on the wall.”
    Clearly he’s not going to elaborate on the star thing. My phone watch tells me it’s twelve forty-four. “You weren’t in there very long. Did you check every room?”
    Jimmy’s spine straightens with pride. “I can run real fast, you know.”
    â€œOf course I know. One hundred meters in ten-point-nine seconds.”
    He cocks an eyebrow. “You keep stats on me?”
    I feel my face start to burn and I find a way to back-pedal. “I have to check facts when I subedit. Some things just stick in my head, that’s all.”
    â€œNice to know
someone
cares,” he says. “Unlike my brother.”
    â€œOf course he cares. He’s probably out looking for you.”
    Jimmy grimaces. He leans against a thick tree trunk and I wonder why he doesn’t get absorbed into the bark. Maybe it’s because he
expects
the tree to hold him up. There’s still so much about ghost protocols I haven’t learned yet.
    â€œI don’t know... Last I remember, we got into a fight.”
    â€œWhat, a fist-fight?” I lean against the tree, too. No danger of me being swallowed up—knock on wood.
    â€œNah. All I know is that it was about something stupid. Something to do with the newspaper.” He shakes his head as if to jog his memory. “Whatever it was, it made me crazy angry.”
    I keep my gaze on the dewy grass. “Like an...exposé of some kind?”
    â€œExposé,” he says flatly. Crossing his arms, he stands straighter. “Yeah, an article. A hatchet job. On me.”
    â€œYou knew about it?”
    He stares at me accusingly. “
You
knew? Did you write it, Miss Fact-Checker?”
    My defenses rise like a plume of volcanic ash. “No! I didn’t know anything until Mara told me about it yesterday. She wasn’t going to run it, because she wasn’t sure if...if it was true. Are you saying it was a lie?”
    Jimmy snorts and frowns at his right leg. “I wish. Guess it doesn’t matter anymore, huh?”
    My anger dials down a notch. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œI’ve known for a month or so. Tried to tell myself I’d get better.” Raw emotion drips from his voice. “You know what sucks about all this? I don’t even have a real body anymore, but it still hurts like hell.”
    I’m completely baffled as to why a ghost can feel physical pain. I’ve heard about amputees who feel sensation in their lost body parts. Phantom pain. Maybe Jimmy has some form of that. The idea of death not freeing a person from pain fills me with horror. Grandie was in agony in her last days. Is
she
still suffering, too?
    I wish I could comfort her. Comfort Jimmy. He’s staring at his knee with utter loathing.
    â€œWhat do you want to do now?” I throw a look at the immense house. “Wait for Dan?”
    Part of me—a large, cowardly part—silently begs him to