by Megan Atwood
“Is she famous or something?” Olive asked.
Lizzie giggled. “No. She’s just really fun. Let’s go to the dining room so you can meet her.”
The four of them walked into the dining room, and Olive saw the most eccentrically dressed person she’d ever seen in her life.
Aunt Willow wore jeans. But she also wore at least two skirts on top of them. She had on a tank top that looked like it was made out of big leaves and had jewelry all up and down her arms. She also had tattoos here and there peeking out from behind her clothes. Her hair was long and dark, and she had huge blue eyes that looked a lot like Lizzie’s. She wore a tiara with points on it that looked like quartz, and most interestingly—she wore cowboy boots and fairy wings.
“Here they are!” she practically yelled. She sounded a lot like Lizzie’s mom. She rushed over to Olive and Peter and enveloped them in a hug. Olive wasn’t quite sure where to put her hands—the fairy wings were in the way. In fact, one of them was almost in her mouth.
Before she could say anything, Aunt Willow let them go and waved them over to the table. “Come over here and sit down! We have some apple cider donuts to eat—we can’t eat them all. Olive and Peter, tell me everything about yourselves, starting with when you were born.”
Olive said, “What . . . ?”
Aunt Willow kept going. “Do you know the time of your birth? And where you were born? We can do a star chart for you.” She paused and squinted slightly. “I’m going to guess you’re Capricorn.”
Olive’s mouth hung open. She hadn’t understood any of what Aunt Willow had said. Except that she and Peter were Capricorn. Whatever that meant.
“They are!” Lizzie said, beaming.
“We don’t know our birth times, but we were born in Boston,” Peter said. “We can get you our birth times later, probably.”
“What’s a star chart?” Olive asked.
“No matter!” said Aunt Willow. “I can always read your tarot cards. Or your palms. We’ll have fun no matter what!”
Olive had seen tarot card readers and palm readers at a Renaissance festival one time. Her dad John had been more than a little skeptical, but her other dad had wanted to get readings for Peter and Olive. Peter had sided with David; Olive had sided with John. Which was how it normally went. Olive caught eyes with Peter and widened hers. Peter smiled and shrugged. Olive knew what that meant: “It may be a little nuts but it’s probably fun.”
“Okay,” said Aunt Willow. “Let’s get you plied with some donuts; let’s throw some pillows on the floor in the den; we’ll do some tarot readings and some palm readings; and then I want to hear about every single thing that’s been happening around here. Sound good?”
Sarah smiled. “Oh, man, do we have some stories to tell you.”
CHAPTER 11
A Whole Lot of Nonsense in a Tiara
Aunt Willow sat on the floor with them all in a circle. All the throw pillows lay scattered on the floor, and candles glowed around them. Olive thought that might be a fire hazard, but she didn’t say anything. She pushed her glasses up and listened to what Aunt Willow was saying about Sarah.
“So, the cards say you are going to have an amazing autumn—you’re doing a lot of different things you haven’t done before, right?” she asked.
Sarah nodded eagerly. “Oh, yeah! We got to put together a zombie hayride AND a haunted barn this year.”
Aunt Willow smiled. “Yes! I heard about that.”
It took all of Olive’s willpower not to say, “Well then, it wasn’t the cards that told you that!”
So far, Peter, Lizzie, and Sarah had had their cards and their palms read. Olive thought it was silly—Aunt Willow didn’t say anything that wasn’t obvious or that she hadn’t heard from her own family.
“Okay, Olive, your turn!” Aunt Willow said brightly. Olive considered this and was about to speak when Aunt Willow said, “Oooh. I see we have a skeptic in the bunch.”
Peter, Lizzie, and Sarah all said, “Yep,” at the same time. Olive really wished they’d quit doing that. At least doing it without her. Or about her.
Aunt Willow’s eyes turned kind. “That must be hard, being the only one.”
Olive shrugged. She felt tears spring to her eyes. Maybe Aunt Willow did know some things. . . .
But before Olive could sit down and get a reading, Sarah jumped in. “Olive is skeptical about something we wanted to talk to you about, Aunt Willow.”
“Yes?” Aunt Willow raised one eyebrow.
“Well . . . we think there’s a ghost haunting us,” Sarah said.
And with that, Peter, Lizzie, and Sarah poured out the whole story of Verity Wentworth. Then they went into all the strange happenings since they’d heard about the story.
The whole time they were talking, Aunt Willow remained impassive. She nodded or said “Mm-hmm” but didn’t seem to be totally buying it.
Olive was relieved. Maybe she’d finally have someone on her side.
When they were finally done with the story, Aunt Willow sat up straight and cleared her throat. “I’m so glad you told me all of this. Because I have to be honest . . .”
Olive smiled. FINALLY someone would be on her side.
“. . . I have definitely felt an unsettled spirit around here. I believe one hundred percent that you are being haunted by the ghost of Verity Wentworth. I do know that she lived here. I can confirm that.”
Lizzie, Sarah, and Peter all let out a breath that sounded like a sigh of relief. But anger welled up in Olive. Anger and frustration. It bubbled out of her until she couldn’t keep it in anymore. She fell back into some pillows.
“I can’t believe it,” she said to the ceiling.
“We know you don’t believe it, Olive, but . . . ,” Lizzie started, but Olive sat up again.
“OF COURSE I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” she said. “It’s not real. It’s not true! Why do you insist on believing in these dumb things?” She turned to Aunt Willow. “And you’re an adult! You’re supposed to tell the truth!”
She stood up and stomped to her backpack. She unzipped it and grabbed a sheaf of papers. “I can prove it. Look at these things. These are the reasons all that stuff happened. I did some research.”
She slammed the papers on the floor. “There. Look for yourself. The barn doors opened because there was a wind tunnel. And the pumpkin patch probably caught fire because of dumb kids smoking. And Sheriff Hadley is clumsy! EVERYTHING HAPPENED FOR A REASON. There is no such thing as ghosts!”
Olive thought everyone would grab the papers to thumb through them, but no one moved. They all just looked at her.
Aunt Willow cleared her throat. “Olive is right,” she said, making Lizzie, Sarah, and Peter whip their heads around to stare at her. “There could be logical explanations for all of this.” Olive smiled triumphantly. “BUT,” Aunt Willow continued, “it wouldn’t hurt to try to get Verity’s ghost to move on. What do you say? Do you want some advice on how to do that?”
Lizzie, Sarah, and Peter all whooped. Olive fell back into the pillows again. “I’ll be right back,” Aunt Willow said. Then she sprang up and ran up the stairs. After just a few seconds, she came down again, holding a bag that had a moon and stars on it. “I have just the thing. I have a friend who is a medium, and I’ve gone on trips with her where we banished ghosts. I texted her and asked for some advice. Here’s what I’ve got: a quartz crystal for clarity, rose quartz for love, a candle for burning, and tourmaline to banish negative energy. But also, ghosts sometimes just need justice. I think Gloria is right—you need to tell Verity Wentworth’s story and find out who the real killer is.”
“Did you have all of these things in your bag?” Sarah asked.
“Uh-huh!” Aunt Willow said cheerily. “I always carry these things around. For just this type of emergency, in fact.” She smiled big. “Okay, kids. I need to go get some sleep. I have a heavy schedule of lucid dreaming tonight that I don’t want to miss.” She got up and gave each of them a hug.
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As soon as she left, Sarah turned to Olive. “Okay, I’ll say it. Olive, why are you being like this?”
CHAPTER 12
Clearing the Air
Olive took a deep breath. “I just don’t understand why you guys believe something that is ridiculous! Gloria was just trying to scare us—she thinks we’re babies. You’re falling right into her trap!” Now that she’d decided to talk about all her feelings, she couldn’t seem to stop. “Why can’t we just set up the zombie hayride and the haunted barn and just have fun? I’m right about ghosts not being real.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Every single thing has a logical explanation. Why can’t you see that?”
Two tears sprang to her eyes and then escaped. She wiped them away impatiently.
Lizzie said softly, “Why is it so important for you to be right about this?”
“Because . . .” Olive couldn’t put it into words. “I don’t know. It just seems that we’re . . . not on the same page anymore. Or something.”
Everyone was quiet. Olive knew they all felt the same way—this could be the beginning of the end. If she thought what they believed was babyish, how could they all come back from that? She felt like she was moving on and they were staying put, and it was not a good feeling.
Finally, Peter spoke. “Okay. So there IS definitely a logical explanation for everything.”
Olive looked at him in surprise. So did Lizzie and Sarah. He put his hands up. “I mean, the three of us aren’t dumb, Olive. You may be the smartest person of all of us, but that doesn’t mean we’re not smart too.”
Olive felt a zing of pride—her brother thought she was smarter than him? “I don’t think I’m the smartest . . . ,” she said, trailing off. But then she realized: she totally did. Because she totally was.
Peter went on, “But we keep saying this: you don’t know everything. None of us do. Do you agree?”
Olive pursed her lips. She couldn’t argue with that. “Yes, that’s true.”
“And the timing of all this stuff was really weird, right?” Peter continued.
“Yeah,” she said slowly. “The timing was weird. But that’s the thing about coincidences. They’re weird.”
Lizzie brightened up. She’d clearly seen where Peter was going. “But we don’t know anything for sure, right? You just said that.”
Olive nodded. “Yes, I guess not for SURE.”
Peter finished up, “So, maybe we can agree that there are probably logical explanations for things. We all know that, Olive.” Sarah and Lizzie nodded. “We agree with that. And all you have to do is agree to have an open mind.”
Olive thought about it. She wasn’t so sure. . . . They wanted her to have an open mind about something that couldn’t be true. She wanted to have an open mind. “But . . . no one has ever seen a ghost for sure. Or proven they exist. It’s hard to—”
Lizzie jumped in. “I’ve never seen gravity, but it exists.”
Sarah’s face brightened. “Yeah! I’ve never seen electricity, just the lightbulbs it goes into!”
Olive was about to argue that those things had been proven to exist, by lots of people and through all sorts of science, when Peter jumped in.
“I’ve never seen friendship walking around, but I know that exists,” he said. He smiled at her.
That stopped Olive in her tracks. She saw Sarah smile widely, and Lizzie beamed. Olive’s stomach untwisted. Her shoulders relaxed. A smile grew on her face, and it felt like it might hurt her cheeks if it grew any bigger.
“That’s true!” she said. “Okay. I agree . . . I can do this.” It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She could keep her skepticism and be true to herself, and she could keep her friendship. The four of them threw their arms around each other and laughed. Olive felt better than she had in weeks.
Except for one thing . . .
“Okay, do you think Gloria was trying to scare us?” she asked them. “Or do you think she thinks the ghost is real?”
They broke out of their hug, and Lizzie looked thoughtful. She said, her voice hushed, “Knowing Gloria, it’s probably both.”
Peter nodded. “I think she was trying to scare us. Maybe to just get us in the mood for the haunted barn or something.”
Sarah said, “Yep. That sounds like Gloria. Like she wanted us to get really into the story or something.”
Olive said, “I bet she did some research or something. Anyway . . . what do you say we try to find out?”
Peter, Lizzie, and Sarah all looked at each other, and for a minute, Olive was afraid they were back to where they’d been before. She started to feel a little self-conscious, but then finally, the three of them broke out into huge grins.
“OH, YES,” Sarah said. Then she lowered her voice. “And while we’re at it, we can check for ghosts, too.”
Olive beamed. “Deal,” she said. Then she fell back into the pillows, glad the world was right again.
• • •
The next morning, all four of them got up early, ready to do some sleuthing on Gloria and her friends. Olive felt like they needed a plan, so she gathered them in closely at the breakfast table. They all kept one eye out for Gloria, but no one was too worried. She rarely got up before noon on weekends.
“Okay,” Olive said. “It looks like we need to do two things. One, find out if Gloria is making that whole story up. Like, do she and her friends even believe it?”
Sarah chewed her toast and nodded. “Yeah, and if they don’t believe it, she was just trying to be mean to us.”
Lizzie said, “Or to practice storytelling. I don’t think she would take the time to be mean unless it helped her acting.”
Peter said, “Maybe to see if the story would work on the people who came to the haunted barn.”
Olive nodded, “Good, yes. So that’s the first thing. That’s going to be a lot of spying and following Gloria and her friends. Do you know what their schedule is like, Lizzie?”
Lizzie said, “They’re practicing for the haunted barn today, I know that for sure. Gloria has told everyone that they’re telling the story of Verity Wentworth to ‘break the curse’ and stop her from haunting the orchard. And ‘WREAKING HAVOC’ in the orchard. She always says that last part while she’s throwing her arms out.”
Olive giggled and pushed her glasses up. “Perfect. We can listen in on them and do a little spying to see if they all believe it or if Gloria was just making things up. But my idea for the second thing we can do is a little more . . . dangerous.”
Lizzie, Sarah, and Peter all looked at her with puzzled expressions. Olive leaned in. “I think we should go to the barn at midnight with Aunt Willow’s crystals and try to get the ghost of Verity Wentworth to leave the farm. Or to at least tell her that her story will be told.”
Peter looked at her, disbelieving. “Wait. Miss Ghosts Aren’t Real all of a sudden wants to talk to one?”
Olive grinned. “That’s MS. Ghosts Aren’t Real, thank you very much. And we agreed—we don’t know everything, right? So we should try all avenues to get to the bottom of what’s going on. Are you in?”
Sarah whooped and a piece of toast fell out of her mouth. This made all four of them collapse in laughter. Peter managed to say, “It’s the curse!” Which made them all laugh harder. Olive looked around at her friends and wondered how in the world she had ever felt like they didn’t belong together.
CHAPTER 13
An Ill Wind
You’re on my foot, Olive!” Peter whispered loudly.
“Shhh,” Sarah and Olive said at the same time, but that was so loud, all four of them ducked so they wouldn’t be seen. They were sitting behind a bale of hay, watching Gloria and her acting friends rehearse for the Verity Wentworth grand finale in the haunted barn. Sneaking in and spying had been surprisingly easy. All they’d done was tiptoe into the barn one by one as the group of actors chatted in the hayloft and waited for rehearsal to start.
So far it just looked like a bunch of bo
red teenagers in black turtlenecks sitting around among the hay bales looking at their phones. But then Gloria clapped her hands and got everyone’s attention.
When she spoke, she used a British accent that Olive had to admit was pretty good. “Daahllinnngs,” she said, “thank you for coming to this wee little rehearsal. Your acting abilities are dangerously good, and we shall use your talent to make this the best haunted barn this world has ever seen!” She flung her arms out with a flourish, and the crowd of kids clapped wildly.
“First we’ll do a few run-throughs. Then we’ll put on our makeup and do a dress rehearsal. The opening show is only two weeks away, my dears. We must get this perfect in order to wow our audience. Questions?”
It was quiet for a moment, and Olive heard rustling next to her. Lizzie had her hand over her nose, and her eyes had turned red and watery. She looked like she was going to sneeze. Olive shared a look with Sarah, who was scrunching up her face in anticipation, and the two of them nodded to each other. Then they dived on top of Lizzie just as she sneezed. The sound was muffled, but still, they weren’t in the clear.
“What was that?” someone in the hayloft said. “Did you hear that?”
Gloria sniffed. “Darlings, our audience is not just the living. The dead come here tonight as well, to see our brilliance!” She flourished her hands again, but this time no one clapped.
“Gloria, we’re not your little sister and her friends, you know. You don’t need to try to scare us too,” one of the turtlenecked actors said. Olive had poked her head up again when the person had mentioned them. This was exactly why they’d come to eavesdrop. Lizzie, Sarah, and Peter poked their heads up too.
“The story, dearest Jenny, is a true one. At least the part about Verity Wentworth being here and dying,” Gloria said. Olive could see her glare from where she sat.
Another voice spoke out. “Yeah, but the other part—the murder and the ghost—was made up. Which was a pretty fabulous publicity stunt, Glor.”
