The sound of Malcolm’s voice in my ear sends my heart pounding.
“Katy! Are you there? Is everything okay?”
“I’m here.”
“Did Chief—”
“Ride in like the cavalry? Yeah, he did.”
I tell him about the trespassing and the two patrol cars and even how, after everything, Orson still wanted me to join his club.
“You know,” Malcolm says, his voice warm with relief and humor, “it’s not really a club.”
“Yeah, I know, and I also know it bothers Orson when I call it that.”
Steam from one of the thermoses rises in the air. The scent of Kona blend is intoxicating in the cold, and it’s all I can do not to drink down the entire thing. Instead, I hold it next to the barrier. With a hand, I push the steam toward the ghosts only to watch it dissipate against the invisible wall between us. They wail in f
