“Oh, my! Are you okay?”

There were sniffing sounds, and something warm and wet slid across Lester’s cheek. Opening his eyes, he breathed a sigh of relief as Mae Chase’s smiling face came into focus. She was wearing a t-shirt with a flying saucer floating above the words I Want to Believe and holding a leash attached to the miniature bulldog standing on Lester’s chest.

“Sorry,” Mae said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Lester sat up and set the dog on the ground, where it immediately started racing about with its tongue hanging out.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s my own fault, really. I thought you were someone else.” He brushed dirt from the palm of his sore hand and got to his feet. “Anyway, what are you doing up so early?”

“Giving Fox his morning walk,” said Mae.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

They both watched as Fox, grunting, dragged his butt across the grass.

“And I didn’t think anyone read newspapers anymore,” Mae said, untangling the leash from around her legs and handing Lester his delivery bag.

Lester picked up his bike and walked along with Mae as they followed the dog, who tugged his way down the street. “Giles Hollow’s slow to change, I guess.”

“Tell me about it,” Mae said, glancing down at her phone. “You don’t even have high-speed internet here. Though, this area does have a lot of EVP activity. So I guess it kind of balances out.”

“EVP?” asked Lester.

“Electronic Voice Phenomenon. Digital recordings of spirits,” said Mae.

“You mean like, ghosts?”

“Exactly. Their voices can often be found hidden in the static of detuned radios or the audio tracks of old home movies.”

Had it been anyone else, Lester would have assumed they were pulling his leg. But he’d known Mae long enough now to appreciate that she was sincere in her beliefs. This much had been clear from their very first meeting.

The bulk of comings and goings in Giles Hollow centered around the elementary school. In addition to the twice-a-day flurry of students being dropped off and picked up, a stream of teachers arrived early and left late. In the afternoons, various sporting events occupied upper and lower athletic fields, often going until a fading twilight made play impossible. Students, faculty, and parents were kept busy as bees, with the school acting as their hive. All this hustle and bustle came to an abrupt stop, however, with the start of summer vacation. The town then went from sleepy hamlet to nearly deserted.

During this time, partially due to a lack of alternatives, but mostly because Bernard wouldn’t be caught dead there, the library became Lester’s second home. It was his very own fortress of solitude. For three hot and muggy months, the lack of air-conditioning kept even the most ardent bookclub members away.

Lester relished having the place to himself. He spent hours wandering the four floors of the old organ factory building, browsing endless shelves of books for interesting titles he hadn’t yet read. This was what he was doing when he literally stumbled across a girl sitting on the floor, reading in a dark corner. Lester had gotten to his feet, apologized, and politely introduced himself. After that, it had been hard to get a word in edgewise.

Within five minutes, Lester had learned that her name was Mae Chase, that her father’s job had forced her family to move from South Carolina to Giles Hollow, and that she was an only child. Judging by the stack of books on the floor beside her, she also had a deep passion for all things paranormal. An encyclopedia of vampires, a manual for ghost detection, and two volumes on alien abduction were just the ones Lester could make out. She was also quick to smile and, though perhaps a bit odd, perfectly friendly. He saw her in the library three more times that week, and before he knew it, Mae was tagging along with him everywhere.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Amanda had been less than subtle in her feelings about the new arrangement. Lester wasn’t sure why she disliked Mae but suspected it might have something to do with Mae’s penchant for talking. When it was just Amanda and Lester, he was the quiet one, giving Amanda free rein over their conversations. But Mae never seemed to run out of things to say. She was endlessly going on about some fantastical theory or strange happening involving werewolves, secret government projects, or brain-eating bacteria. The last one troubled Amanda most, as Lester had mentioned seeing something about that on the news, thus making it harder for her to dismiss it out of hand.

Alternately, Amanda’s agitation might have stemmed from Mae’s non-stop questions. She seemed fascinated with the most mundane aspects of Giles Hollow. Who was who? What was that building used for, and how long had things been this way? Knowing she was new, they humored her. But when she started asking questions about The Council, questions neither Amanda nor Lester could answer, Amanda had become quiet. Lester suspected, like himself, for the first time in her life, she was getting a glimpse of how strange their families must look to outsiders. Not that Mae acted like anything was out of the ordinary. In fact, more than anyone else, she treated them like they were normal kids from town. And while it didn’t make any sense, Amanda seemed to find this irritating as well.

“Oh, Fox, not again,” Mae said, looking down at the little dog hopelessly tangled in his leash. As she bent to free him, Lester noticed her posture stiffen at the sight of an oncoming car. “Oh, brother. Here we go,” Mae mumbled as the car slowed and stopped beside them.

The window rolled down, revealing a middle-aged couple. The driver, a woman with short blonde hair and a round face, leaned across the man in the passenger seat.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said in a thick southern accent. “Who’s your friend?”

When Mae didn’t immediately answer, Lester introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Lester North.”

“Oh, Lester!” the woman squealed with delight. “Mae’s father and I have heard so much about you. It’s just lovely to finally meet you in person.”

“Nice to meet you too, um — Mr. and Mrs. Chase?”

“Maeko,” interrupted Mr. Chase. “Your breakfast is on the table. Your mother is driving me to another interview, but she’ll be back shortly.” His southern drawl was even more pronounced than his wife’s.

“Fine,” Mae said, keeping her attention on Fox.

“Now, make sure you eat enough,” Mrs. Chase added. “You know how you get when your blood sugar gets too low.” Then, she turned her attention to Lester. “As lost as last year’s Easter egg.”

“Mom!” glared Mae.

“Alright, alright, we’re going. Have a good day. And Lester, don’t you be such a stranger, darlin’.”

The car pulled away, and they watched it until it was out of sight.

“So, those are your parents?” Lester asked once they were alone again.

“That’s them,” sighed Mae.

Lester paused, unsure of how to ask his next question or even if he should. “But they’re not —”

“Japanese?” said Mae. “No, they’re not.”

“Sorry,” said Lester.

“You’re sorry they’re not Japanese?”

“No. I mean — I didn’t —” Lester sputtered. Mae laughed, and Lester could feel himself blushing. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay, really. I forgot you hadn’t met them yet. I’m used to most people being able to tell I’m adopted just by seeing us together.”

They resumed walking, Lester pushing his bike and Fox stopping to mark each mailbox as they went.

“I was born in Japan,” Mae continued, “but my birth parents died in an accident when I was little. I don’t remember much, vague images and bits of language, mainly.”

“Your adopted parents are from the south?” asked Lester.

“Y’all figured that out all by yourself, did ya?” Mae said, in a perfect imitation of her mother.

“But you don’t have an accent?”

“Not really. It comes out sometimes when I’m tired or upset.”

They stopped to watch Fox sniff a bug on the pavement. The dog crouched down and began circling the insect, threatening it with occasional yips, then quickly backing away.

“Anyway,” Mae said. “You get used to it.”

“Used to what?” Lester asked.

“Strangers knowing the deepest, most personal thing about your life before they’ve even met you. They create a whole story in their heads, based solely on who your parents are. And sometimes, no matter what you do, that’s how they’ll always see you. I don’t know. Maybe that’s hard to understand.”

Lester thought of how many times he’d wished his last name hadn’t been North. “No,” he said, watching Fox scoop the bug into his mouth and then immediately spit it out. “It’s not hard at all.”