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Lee flashed me a welcoming smile. “Hey. I’m glad you came back. I never got your number last night. I couldn’t bring myself to ask Cassian for it.”

Relief hit me hard. Last night did happen. He remembered me.

My knees knocked against each other as I stepped into the house. Sounds came from further inside.

Lee let the door close, moving around me. “Got a hockey game on.” His eyes dipped down me and back up, heating. “You okay?”

I hadn’t said a word. Flushing, I nodded. “Yeah. I—” Wait. I moved quickly to the kitchen window to oversee the backyard.

The wall was there. No scorch marks. Nothing. The grass was green. Lush.

I pointed outside. “What the hell, Lee?”

He looked, frowning. I swear that I could see him contemplating something in his head. “I saw the fire. Josh Nimrod. He went ghost hunting with me last night. I—” The words dried up in my throat. There was a ghost there last night, who lit the blaze. Had Lee seen him? He looked, but it was so fast.

Lee shook his head, coming to stand next to me. He had put his bowl down on the counter on his way. “Yeah. I…” His chest lifted up, a sigh leaving him. He raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t quite know what to say about last night. It was weird.”

So he was acknowledging it?

Why had I worried that he wouldn’t?

“No one posted anything about it last night. There’s no mention of the fire in whatever the gossipy nosy neighbors look up to see what the firemen and police do.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “In whatever the⁠—”

The back of my neck was heating up too. “You know what I mean. There’s no mention of the fire, but there was a fire last night.”

“Yeah. About that.” His face tightened and he shifted away a little. “Katie said she smelled a cigarette, but no one was smoking. You weren’t smoking, and then suddenly the fire started from where you were. A lit cigarette.”

I waited for him to finish whatever else he was going to say, but when he didn’t, and he was looking at me, I almost gaped at him. “What?” No. No, no, no. He couldn’t think that I—I hit my chest. “You think I started the fire?”

“Josh was the closest one to you. He said you weren’t smoking. No one was smoking but…” He shrugged, folding his arms over his chest. His jaw tightened. “It was an inferno. I was trying to stomp it out and nothing was happening. Cassian came out to help, and his efforts were useless too. The fire truck got here and boom, suddenly it was gone. Like, it was just there and then nothing.” A wrangled sound came from him. “I can’t explain it. I don’t think I even want to explain it.”

The ghost.

I said, firmly, “It’ll happen again.”

“What?” His eyes met mine.

“It’ll happen again.”

I talked with ghosts. Sometimes I convinced them to cross over. That was it. Ghosts were like people, just without bodies. The good ones liked to talk to me. The bad ones, they tended to avoid me. This, though? A ghost who lit a fire and suddenly it was gone? That was all supernatural and none of it was good.

I scanned the backyard again. Maybe… “There was someone else there.”

Lee tensed. “What?”

I opened the door and went outside. I began walking around, going right to the same spot but nothing. Lee trailed behind me. Shaking my head, I scanned the entirety of the lawn. “There was someone else here last night. A guy. He was smoking.”

I couldn’t tell Lee that it was a ghost, but I could say the rest.

“I talked to everyone. Nimrod and Jason both didn’t see anyone smoking.” His voice grew thick. “I don’t like smokers. I know people smoke, and I know some people were smoking weed, but that was in the basement. I checked the security cameras. No one was smoking a cigarette out here until suddenly it was there. No one would smoke a cigarette, not here. Not my friends. They know—” His voice cracked and he moved back into the house. His departure was so abrupt.

I glanced around, one last time, and still not seeing anything or anyone, I trailed behind him. He wasn’t in the kitchen.

“Lee?” I called out, following the sounds down a hallway that led to a back sitting room.

He was behind a bar and he poured himself a drink, holding the bottle up when he was done. “You want?”