“Miles, are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked a final time because I knew it wasn’t a good idea.

“Quinn, it’s fine. You’re fine. It’ll be great,” he said as he took the last few steps to the front door and knocked. “Trust me, babe.”

I would like to state that I’ve worked hard not to wince when he calls me babe. It’s tough – that word coming out of his mouth sounds… wrong. I mean, we’ve only been going out for a few months – I’m his “babe” now?

Before I had to sell it too hard, the door was abruptly opened by a short boy I’d seen around but whose name I didn’t know. “Jesus, Miles! We’re waiting on you!” His eyes traveled past Miles and landed on me. “Who’s this?”

“This is my girlfriend, Quinn.”

He looked me over, not in a salacious way, but like he was evaluating me. “She’s a junior, Miles.” He said “junior” like I was a leper.

“Yeah, but she’s cool.”

“Isn’t she on the school paper?”

“Dude, she’s cool.”

The guy eyed Miles hard, which was saying something as Miles was a head taller. “Fine, get in here.”

Miles shot me a smile I think he thought was suave and headed inside. The guy at the door closed it behind us.

“I’m Finn,” he said to me. “This is my house. We’re all in the family room.” As he led us through the hallway I could hear voices growing louder, laughing. “It’s Miles, finally. And he brought his girlfriend, a junior…”

We came into the family room and all the faces turned on me. Instantly, I knew this was more than just a group of seniors hanging out. This was a crew.

“That’s alright,” Carter Hale smiled and lit up the room. If the faces at first seemed judgmental, Carter’s two words defused any concerns by sheer charisma. “If Miles vouches for you, that’s good enough for me.”

Miles took a seat on the couch and grinned at the compliment.

“This actually will work out well – we could use one more person,” he nodded to himself before smiling again. “Quinn, right?”

“Quinn, yeah,” I nodded, adjusting my glasses – a nervous tick.

“Cool,” he nodded. “Did Miles tell you what we’re up to here?”

I shook my head.

“Keep it quiet, Chen, I like that…” he turned his mega-watt smile on Miles again. Then back to me, “We’re going to scare us some freshmen. It is October, and what a great opportunity to break in some of the newbies. Have you heard the legend of the drowned girl that haunts the school?”

“Drowned girl? No…”

“That’s because she doesn’t exist. Well… she does now,” Carter, clearly relishing his role as The Ringleader, raised his hands to take in the group. “We’ve been seeding the story about Lana Merrin. She was a freshman who drowned in school pool in a tragic accident. They named the school after her – Merrin High – and it’s said she still haunts the school, wandering dark hallways soaking wet…” he ended dramatically.

“Except the school is named after Eleanor Merrin, who was principal for like a hundred years and just died a couple years ago at an old folks home,” I stated flatly. “And we don’t even have a pool.”

“You know that and we know that… but the freshman,” he shook his head slowly, “They don’t know that. They know what we’ve been telling them about poor Lana Merrin. And how the school built the current gym over the pool to try to erase the tragedy.”

“But all they have to do is check the yearbooks and pictures…” I started.

As if anticipating my question, Carter stood behind Lila, who I knew from the paper. “They could, except Lila has backstopped our story with some carefully fabricated documents sprinkled here and there.” Oh, Lila was The Archivist.

She smiled her self-satisfied smile that I hated so much when she copy-edited my writing. “There’s some annotated replica yearbooks in the library, along with some convincing pictures that I photoshopped showing the old Merrin pool. When it comes to lore, I’ve got this on lock.”

“So, you’ve spread a scary story…” I shrugged, feigning I was unimpressed.

Carter smiled again, “That’s the groundwork. This week the freshman have some scheduled flower parties to decorate their float. Since no one knows anyone, they’re holding them in the gym. They’ve already had a few, of course. Most of them go out the main gym entrance to their rides, but Miles has his hand in the school’s surveillance system and has tracked a number of freshman who wander the dark hallways to hit their lockers before they go home.” He gestured to Miles.

Miles was The Nerd (though later he swore his role was “System Ghost”. Sure, Miles, sure…) I thought he’d be confident explaining his role to me, but maybe it was the way he had to hold the floor, but he stuttered nervously. “I… uh… the janitors are done by six, and the last few flower parties ran to 8pm. So, uh, we’ve got the place to ourselves.”

“Exactly,” Carter picked up. “And that’s where you’ll come in, Quinn. You’ll run recon for us, letting us know where our mark is. When they wander into position, Miles cuts the school lights. Then it’s time for Owen and Finn to set the scene.”

Owen and Finn were The Tech Crew – no, literally, they ran lighting and sound respectively for our school plays.

“And then you lead our ghost onto the scene,” Carter gestured to Addison Rowe.

Addie Rowe, The Actress. She stood up from the couch, all gorgeous, willowy five foot ten of her and threw her long black hair around her face and hunched forward letting out a pained moan and flailing her arms a bit before she shook her hair back, blew some errant strands from her face and smiled a glowing smile. I don’t know why, but I felt the need to clap. Addie giggled – literally giggled – and mock-bowed, saying, “thank you, thank you…”

Carter gave Addie a little golf clap and said, “Thanks, Addie. That’s going to be terrifying come Wednesday.” He pulled out a photo-copied flyer, “And Wednesday is our go-day. Next frosh flower party in the gym starts at 5 and runs until 8.” Carter looked from one face to the next and finally settled on me. “Are you in, Quinn?”

“I’m in.”

Monday and Tuesday I got texts on our group chat making sure all details were ironed out – where were we meeting, where equipment was being stored. Finally the bell rang on Wednesday and we all took our places.

I met Addie in the women’s locker room. “Addie?” I whispered into the darkness. “Are you here?”

“Heya, Quinn!” she whispered back. In the dim lighting I could see her in a black one-piece Mirran High swimsuit. “I’m going to go get wet,” she said, pointing to the showers. “You keep lookout.”

“Will do.” Through my AirPods I could here Carter verifying Owen and Finn were set and ready.

“Miles? Do you have eyes on our quarry?” Carter asked.

“Yeah, the party’s starting to break up. A few have already left… It’s minutes now…”

“Perfect. Quinn? How’s our ghost?”

“She’s drowning herself now,” I responded quietly.

“Excellent. Let me know when she’s in position.”

A moment later, I heard the shower shut off and Addie walked out, dripping wet, hair bedraggled around her face, sneakers squelching as she walked. “Ready?” she asked. “With my hair around my face I can’t see shit.”

“I got you,” I said, taking her hand and leading her out to our position.

We were nearly there when I heard Miles speak, “We’ve got a live one… male has left the gym and entered the corridor…”

“Quinn?” Carter asked. I tapped the microphone on my AirPod twice to acknowledge.

“Perfect. It’s showtime, gang…” I could hear Carter’s smile.

“Cutting school lights…. Now.” I heard more than saw the already dimmed overhead lights shut off with a loud click. I imagined the kid stopped for a moment, unsure what to do, but mustering his courage to hit his locker and soldiering on. “He’s in range, guys…”

“Okay… go,” Carter said smoothly and I saw Owen’s gelled blue light cast an atmospheric glow down the corridor as I peeked around and caught sight of the freshman. Even in the dim light, I could see he was spooked. And that was before Finn’s hidden speakers started playing the sound of dripping water. Owen turned on his projector which caused flickering light like pool lights casting the shifting water onto the walls of the corridor. The freshman completely stopped now.

“Quinn? Ghost time…” Carter cooed.

I turned to Addie and nodded, taking her hand and leading her to the corner, placing her hand on the wall so she could sightlessly get her bearings.

She let out a low, keening moan as she stepped out into the corridor, Owen’s spot perfectly backlighting her as her long hair hung over her face and the water dripped onto the floor, her soaked sneakers squelching as she took staggering, lurching steps towards the freshman.

When he saw her, he went rigid for a second before letting out a high pitched scream and turned, tripping over himself, then getting back up and sprinting down the corridor still screaming. We could hear his panicked footfalls all the way to the gym.

Carter’s voice came in laughing, “Oh my god, guys, that was perfect! Strike the set, clean up and get out of there now.”

We’d even practiced this part. Finn and Owen stashed their equipment while Addie rushed back to the locker room, grabbed her Speedo parka and left through the side door. I grabbed a mop I’d stashed nearby and hurriedly covered up the water in the hall. Sixty seconds later, I exited the same side door and met Addie at Carter’s waiting car. Meanwhile, Miles restored the lighting in the halls just as the last freshmen rushed back with their terrified classmates only to find… nothing.

We repeated our performance a second time two days later. This time catching two freshman girls. They shrieked, turned, and ran into each other before scrambling up and out. By the end of the week, the rumors of the ghost manifesting were all over school and every single freshman looked positively scared.

The next week, we readied ourselves for our final prank. Carter figured we might get one more scare before the adults insisted on escorting freshman to their lockers after the party, and he was right. Though this time it was a trio – a freshman girl and two freshmen boys accompanying her. Aww, how chivalrous!

“Lights, sound… go,” Carter conducted. The lights slowed the boys, while the girl clearly wanted to turn around. The dripping water sounds made all three stop and look at each other.

“Quinn, we’re good for ghost…” I led Addie to the corner and moved a bedraggled strand of hair in front of her eyes. “Thanks!” she whispered before starting to moan as she squelched out into the hallway.

“Holy shit!” one of the boys yelled as the other one already fled. The girl looked like she was hyperventilating, but the Holy Shit boy grabbed her hand and they both sprinted back down the hallway, yelling as they ran.

“Perfect!” Carter’s voice came in. “Now strike everything. I’ll see Addie and Quinn in a sec.”

Addie high fived me and started to squelch jog around the corner to the locker room as I grabbed my mop. I heard her footfalls stop abruptly mid-squelch. I stepped around the corner and saw wet and bedraggled Addie face to face with…. A wet and bedraggled girl… who was translucent.

We three stood there for a long moment, Addie and me staring at the ghost, ghost staring at us. I’ll give Addie credit, she didn’t panic. One second she stared at the ghost, the next I barely saw her move as she flew wordlessly down the hallway to the locker room.

Which left me standing, staring at a ghost.

“That was pretty good,” the scratchy voice of the ghost came out. “But those two girls crashing into each other was the best of the scares.”

I just nodded.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything, Quinn… They believe. That’s all I ever needed.” The ghost girl turned and took three squelching footsteps down the hallway, unhurried, each step fading until the sounds and ghost herself disappeared.

I think anyone who has lost a loved one in the cell phone age has had those twenty-first century grief moments – hearing a voicemail you horde, calling the phone just to hear their outgoing message. I cried when the last voicemail I had from my mom disappeared into the digital ether. I still have her at the top spot in my favorites. It’s been eleven years and I’m sure if I accidentally pressed it I’d get someone very confused. But I can’t bring myself to remove her…

I dried the rinsed the casserole dish and handed it to my sister, Cindy, to dry. As she worked she stared out towards her living room where her husband, Alex, and their son, Joe, watched Sunday Night Football. Well, Alex watched, while Joe chewed on his over-sized pastel plastic keys. A contented look on her face, I don’t think Cindy was aware she had started humming.

“Are you trying to make me cry?” I asked.

“What?” she said, startled. “Oh, Mira, sorry. I didn’t even realize…”

I smiled, “It’s okay. Just missing Dad a lot and I can’t hear that song without thinking of him…”

Cindy smiled back and then started quietly singing, “Spinning on that dizzy edge…”

“Cin, really?”

“…Kissed her face and kissed her head…”

“We’re doing this?”

“…Dreamed of all the different ways…”

I knew she wasn’t going to stop, so I quietly joined her, “I had to make her glow/ ‘Why are you so far away?’ she said/ ‘Why won’t you ever know that I’m in love with you/ That I’m in love with you?’”

It was about then that the tears started. I kept washing dishes and Cindy kept drying. As the tears rolled down my cheeks we reached the chorus together, “…Yooouuu/ Strange as angels/ Dancing in the deepest oceans/ Twisting in the water/ you’re just like a dream.”

“Oh, Mira…” Cindy noticed my tears and set down the plate she way drying and wrapped her arms around me.

“I’m sorry,” I said sniffling.

“It’s okay, Mira…”

I quietly let my big sister hold me for a long moment. “I called him the other day,” then added quickly, “Accidentally. He’s still in my ‘Favorites’. I can’t take him out of my ‘Favorites.’”

Cindy laughed and sniffled – her tears joined mine at some point. “Yeah, I can’t bring myself to remove him either.”

“It was good to hear his voice on his outgoing message…”

“You know I have to deactivate that line, right?”

I nodded. “I know. I thought you had. You closed out the estate, what? Six months ago?”

“Yeah…” she said, trailing off. “That was just one thing I hadn’t done. Felt too… final.”

I laughed. “Weird the arbitrary places we draw that line.”

“Right?”

A few nights later, I found myself home alone. I realized I had just spent an inordinate amount of time scrolling TikTok and I absently closed the app. I pulled up the phone app and went to my favorites to call Cindy and saw “Dad” there, and the grief washed over me, unbidden. It didn’t jar loose a torrent of tears this time, but it was a close thing. Before I realized I was doing it, I touched his entry.

“The number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”

She’d done it. She’d finally done it. I felt a mix of fresh grief, like I lost another part of him, and… a little relief. Like I’d finally let go of something… stupidly I wondered if he felt that way when he let go of me on my pink Huffy after he removed the training wheels… And that brought me back to Dad tucking me in and humming “Just Like Heaven” until I fell asleep…

I shook my head, wiped my eyes – I’m not crying, you are! – and called Cindy. When she picked up I started, “I’m such a fucking basket case…”

“Oh, Mira…”

A few nights later, it actually was an accident. I aimed for Cindy’s entry but inadvertently hit “Dad”. Bracing for the “The number you have reached…” message, I quickly moved to press disconnect, but the line picked up and there wasn’t an automated message but dead air. I waited for someone to say, “Hello?” expecting the line to have already been reassigned, but the line remained quiet. I listened and I swear I heard a faint humming. Not like an electronic hum, like 60 cycle hum or something like that. No, it was like a person humming, but it was so faint… Click, and the line went dead. I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

After that I found myself with my finger hovering deliberately over the “Dad” entry. I assured myself the sound I heard was just some switching anomaly, nothing more. What else could it realistically be?

“I finally did it,” Cindy said as she dried the saucier and hung it from the potholder.

“Did what?”

“Took Dad out of my favorites. I figured after I disconnected his line I was just torturing myself.”

“Because your little sister stupidly called the disconnected line?”

“Mira, stop. I’m not telling you to do it – you have to do what feels right for you.”

I quietly washed dishes and Cindy dried. Finally, I shook my head, “I’m not ready.”

“That’s fine, Mira. That’s fine…”

Later that week, the weather turned cold and the first big storm of the season blew in from the Pacific, rattling the windows. The power flickered. I turned the TV off and pulled the blanket close around me as I listened to the wind gust through the eaves outside as it peppered the windows with horizontal rain. A flash lit up the clouds out over the bay. I started counting, “one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, three-Mississippi, four-Mississippi, five-Miss—” A peal of thunder rolled through the house and I remembered dad teaching me that when I was scared of the thunder and lightning. It didn’t help – I still ran for their bedroom the first big peal of thunder after he’d left – but laying there under the blanket, knowing the storm was moving through…

I picked up my phone and pressed the button for “Dad.”

The line picked up. Dead air again. Then I heard it again, unmistakable – humming. “Just Like Heaven.” I closed my eyes against tears and listened as the humming went through a verse and chorus and then broke off as the voice cleared its throat. I knew that cough like I knew my own hand. “Daddy?” I said reflexively.

The line cut off. I stared at the screen glowing in the darkness, blurry through my tears.

I called again.

“The number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service…”

I dropped the phone and just let the tears come.

A blurry flash of lightning outside. Through my tears I counted, “One-Mississippi, Two—” Thunder, loud and immediate, shook the house.

The phone started ringing. The ringtone was the Watson Twins’ cover of “Just Like Heaven,” so I didn’t need to see the caller ID that read just “Dad.”

“…You/ Soft and lonely/ You/ Lost and lonely/ You/ Just like… heaven…” And before I could break free of my shock, the song abruptly cut off. I frantically looked at the screen, but it was just my home screen. I opened the phone app, touched the “Favorites.”

The top contact was Cindy.

Dad was gone.

Sometimes I get really caught up in useless backstory. Like I can tell you Sadie’s Masters was in Human-Computer Interaction from the School of Informatics, Computing, and Engineering at Indiana University at Bloomington. Does that matter at all in the story? No, no it does not. Nor does it matter that Leon’s boyfriend has no issue with how much time he spends with Sadie because it gives him more uninterrupted time writing fanfic. Is he even mentioned in the story? He is not. Alas, my brain is an interesting place…

The front door to my apartment blew open without warning and I jumped three feet straight up.

“I have pizza!” Leon announced loudly as he sashayed in, his typical ebullience abruptly falls as he noticed my panicked countenance. “Oh shit, I forgot to knock again. Girl, I am so sorry!”

You can’t get mad at Leon. He’s sunshine, Funfetti, and a disco ball in human form and he had been a beacon and my BFF throughout my undergrad life at U of M, and no small part of why I decided to accept the offer from EchoClade AI to relocate to SF. “No, I mean, yes, I mean, yeah, please knock.. but,” I sniffed the air, “Oh my god, is that Golden Boy’s Clam and Garlic pizza?”

“Pizza!” Leon proffered the box, his initial energy starting to return.

“You’re a god, Leon!”

“I know,” he said nonchalantly. “A curse I live with…” unprompted he handed me a square of pizza on a plate and plopped down on the couch. “So, uh, what’s up? You jumped when I came in – usually you squeak or swear, but startle? Who are you, girl?”

I let out an enormous sigh. “I’m a little freaked out right now,” I said.

Leon furrowed his brow dramatically. “Say more.”

“You know what? Here,” I said, switching on my desktop speakers, and pressing play on my laptop. My recorded voice came out of the speakers, a little breathless.

“Sunday, October 5^th, 2025. Might have been the most perfect day since I moved to San Francisco. Sunny, warm but not hot… I’m on my new weekend ritual run along the Embarcadero, detoured out onto the Aquatic Park Pier for the view of the bridges. It’s just so…”

A distinct voice says very plainly, “Sadie…”

And I continue, “… perfect.” I stop and let out a laugh. “That’s really descriptive of me, I know. But, I mean, really, I can’t—” I stopped the playback and looked at Leon.

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Who called your name there?”

“No one,” I said.

“Umm, come again?”

“No one. I was alone out there on the pier. I mean, I think some tourists on Segways rolled by at one point, but that was this morning – I pretty much had it to myself.”

“But… girl, that voice clearly said your name.”

“Yeah…”

His eyes suddenly bugged out with glee as he squealed, “You’ve got an EVP!”

“A what?”

“EVP! Electronic Voice Phenomenon – it’s when you catch a ghost on an audio recording.”

I groaned. “Ugh, ghost shit.” I love Leon, I do, but his obsession with the paranormal can sometimes be… a little much. “But… if that’s the case, why didn’t I hear it when I was recording into my phone?”

Leon waggled his eyebrows, “Nobody knows, but… play it again! Play it again!”

I obliged and played just the supposedly EVP voice.

Leon did a little dance. “You don’t understand – most EVPs sound like crap. Like, seriously, it’s all ‘blrggershppallagh.’” He released a small eruption of gibberish. “And the paranormal kiddos are all, ‘Did you hear that? The spirit clearly said he likes his foot tickled.’”

I wheeze-laughed at his imitation of some nerdy paranormal person.

“But that voice,” he pointed at the speakers, “There’s no question it says ‘Sadie’. You! It knew your name!” He suddenly jumped off the couch. “We’re going back!”

“What, now?”

“Yes, now! Strike while the ghostly iron is hot, and this is hawt as hell, girl!”

I looked at the clock and whined, “It’s already dark and I have pizza…”

He was already at the door and threw me my Patagonia jacket. “Get your Minnesota butt out of that chair. We’re going to the pier!”

Half an hour later we’re standing on the Aquatic Park pier freezing both of our asses off as the fog obscured both bridges. “What now?” I asked.

“Get you phone out. Start recording!!”

I pulled out my phone, opened my loyal Voice Memo app and hit the record button. “Sunday, October 5^th… again. Back at Aquatic Park. In the dark. With Leon…”

“Hey hey!” he grinned.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, what now?”

“Just ask some questions. Like who said your name.”

“Umm… okay… When I was here earlier, someone said my name pretty clearly. Are you, uh… here now?” I threw Leon a quizzical look and he nodded enthusiastically. “Who… who are you? Do I… uh… know you? I mean… have we met? Leon,” I broke, “this is dumb.”

“This is great!” he said brightly.

“Okay… but I’m freezing. Can we go back to my apartment now?” I pressed stop and started walking.

With steaming lattes in hand, we both crowded around the laptop as I started the playback of the voice memo. “Umm… okay… When I was here earlier, someone said my name pretty clearly–”

“Sadie,” came the voice again, more steady than last time. I involuntarily gripped Leon’s bicep.

“Are you, uh… here now?”

“Yes,” the voice said, though it might have been more “Yep” or “Yeah” but it was absolutely affirmative.

“…Who… who are you? Do I… uh… know you?”

“No,” the voice said emphatically.

“What the hell is this?” I whispered frantically to Leon who just stared open-mouthed.

“I mean… have we met? Leon… this is dumb.”

“Family.”

Leon and I both mouthed the word “family” to each other and stared in freaked-out silence for long moments.

Leon broke the silence first. “So, who in your family died in San Francisco?”

“No one!” I said immediately. “No one in my immediate family has even been to San Francisco. I mean, when I told my mom I was moving here she all but asked if I had my passport and my shots.”

“No one?” Leon asked incredulously.

“I’m telling you! No one!”

The next day on my way home from work I called my mom. “Yeah, I’m fine, mom. I was just wondering… has anyone in our family ever lived in San Francisco? Maybe… I don’t know… died here?” I braced myself for the response to my poorly worded question. “That’s what I thought… no, I mean, it’s nothing, really. Just a weird thing… Can you ask dad? He said to call Aunt Judy, yeah, I heard.” Aunt Judy was our family genealogist on my dad’s side, so that made sense. “Yeah, no, it’s nothing. Really. Just curious…”

Aunt Judy was… exceptionally helpful…. After the first 45 minutes of small talk, promises to visit at Christmas, yada yada. “Oh yeah,” she said, “Well, you know, your great, great… well, he’d be your… “She carefully enunciated the “greats,” “Great-great-great-grandfather, Thaddeus Halloway was one of seven children. They were in New York at that time. His younger brother, Elias, decided to go to California sometime in the 1850s.”

“Oh! Where did he end up?” I asked enthusiastically.

“Well, we don’t know. The only letter that was passed down was postmarked San Francisco, 1852… and then nothing.”

Goosebumps.

Another 45 minutes of who Thadeus begat and when they moved three blocks over, and another block over and eventually moved to Minnesota and more assurances to visit at Christmas, and I hung up and danced around my apartment before calling Leon.

“Pizza!” Leon called the next day from outside the door before gingerly letting himself in, his brilliant smile falling when he saw me pale at the computer. “No, no, no, no, no… What is going on now?!”

“Last night you put the pieces together for me – they moved the bodies out of the San Francisco cemeteries to Colma, those whose families didn’t respond were interred in a mass grave in Colma and their headstones used for building material at Aquatic Park among other places. Great-great-granduncle Elias–”

“You forgot a ‘great’” Leon interrupted.

“What?”

“Great-great-great-granduncle”

I shot him a glare before continuing. “Great-great-great-granduncle Elias’s headstone was probably at Aquatic Park, which is why he communicated with me.”

“Right…” he knew this already, “And…”

“And I went to Colma this afternoon and went through the names interred at that mass grave…”

“And?!” he asked, gesturing for more.

In answer, I pressed play on the laptop.

“Tuesday, October 7^th. I’m at Cypress Lawn Cemetery in Colma, reading through the names of the ‘Laural Hill Mound,’… that’s a lovely name for it,” I said sarcastically. “Okay… it is alphabetical… that’s helpful…” my voice trails off as I scan the names. “…Halvorsen… Hamamoto… Hamrick… Holy shit… there it is… Elias Halloway… Well… there you are, uncle Elias,” my smile is practically audible in the recording. “I’m glad I got to meet you,” I said.

“I’m glad, too” a voice spoke clearly.

In the recording I started to say something, but other voices rose up. “Who are you?” “Do you know where we are?” “Are you my Ellie?” “We woke up alone.”

Leon dropped his slice of pizza.