We read through every entry in Gran's childhood diary, whether they offered any insight about Anna Elvers or not. We weren't giggling as much by the end, even when Gran tried to spell "ostentatious" in reference to a girl at school. By the time we had reached the last couple pages, Gran was heading into the summer of her fourteenth year. She was writing again about Peter Altman, who had asked another girl to a dance—a most upsetting roadblock in Gran's romantic plans—and there were no more references to Anna.

My phone pinged, distracting me from the melodrama. I reached for it where it lay on the end table and tilted the screen to check the notification.

It was a Facebook message. "Did I tell you I sent a message to one of the local Elverses?"

Ana shook her head. "You did? You know them?"

"Not at all. I Facebook stalked them by last name and decided to try my luck to see if they knew anything about where Anna might have ended up."

"Wow. That was kind of ballsy."

I forced a laugh. "Maybe, but it's not too crazy, right? They were really good friends. If she's still alive, she might want to know that Gran passed away."

"True. What did they say?"

"Let's see." I tapped to open the message from Jerry Elvers, holding the phone so Anna could read it, too.

Hello Tabitha,

I am very sorry to hear of your grandmother's passing. I did not know Ruth personally, but I was aware of her as our local artist in residence. My sister actually has one of her paintings hanging in the family room.

Unfortunately, I don't think any of us can help you with contacting Anna. I never met her, and my grandfather (her brother Robert) lost touch with her when he was very young.

In case you plan to contact anyone else from my family, or if you have already, I will give you a lay of the land. I don't expect anybody will know any more than I have told you, but you're welcome to reach out to see.

There were nine in that generation and I'm afraid I don't know all of their names, but my grandfather was one of the boys, Robert. He married a local lady named Doris and they had three children: Robert II (my dad), Nancy, Carrie.

Then Dad and Mom (Stacey) had three kids too. Jodi and me are older (twins) and then Michael.

I and my wife Linda have two children, Chelsey and K.J.

Jodi has a daughter named Paisley.

Michael married Diane just a few years ago. They have one son, William, who just had his first birthday.

The rest of the Elvers clan is somewhat dispersed now and we're really all the family left in the area. I am happy to try to answer any questions you might have if there is somebody in particular you are trying to track down. Like I said, I don't think any of us will know much about Anna. I suppose she would be my great aunt. It's known in our family that she eloped with her boyfriend when she was still in her teens. Seems romantic now but at the time I expect it was quite a scandal. As far as I know she never contacted the family again.

If you do happen to find Anna, or any of her family/children, let me know. It would be nice to get in touch. I wish I could tell you how to look them up, but I don't have any idea what her boyfriend's name would have been, which would have become her name.

Good luck and again, I am sorry for your recent loss.

Jerry E.

Disappointment tightened my throat. It took a moment before I could speak. "Well, that answers that."

"It was worth trying." Ana took my phone from my hand and scanned the message again, a frown pulling her mouth down at the corner. "It's just crazy to me that somebody could disappear like that and nobody would go looking for her."

"Maybe they did. Her mother and father, or her siblings. They just wouldn't have been able to find her. If she'd gotten married, I mean, Anna would have been a really common name...and if something happened to her..."

"...Then there would have been nobody to find. And this would have been his grandfather's generation and if there were nine of them, no wonder he wouldn't know everything about all his great uncles and aunts."

I nodded, picking up Gran's 2018 diary from the end table. "The Elverses might not have answers, but I think that Gran did. It's time to finish reading this."

Ana scooted closer to me. We bent our heads over Gran's diary again.

April 3, 2018

This house is haunted. It has been haunted for a long time.

That word can mean many things. Any house where a family has lived for such a long time is haunted by memories. So much has happened in the lives of the people who've lived here, the Haases and the Carters, that every room, every corner is filled with us.

But there's something more. I think it has grown stronger through the years. I don't remember any strange things happening when I was a child. It was only as I grew older that I began to sense something odd.

After Burton died, of course, I was half out of my mind at the best of times. When Melinda was three or four years old, I would sometimes hear her babbling to herself or playing games in her room. When I would peek in on her, I would get the uncanny sense that she was talking to somebody or something that I couldn't see, offering a toy to thin air, her little body poised as if she were engaging with another person.

It wasn't until she was about eight years old that I saw you for the first time. And she was not about eight, she was exactly eight—she was eight when Mom died and that had happened just a few nights before at the hospital.

When I woke up that evening, I knew something wasn't right. Something more than remembering that Mom was dead, which still struck me every time I opened my eyes, same as it had years before when Burton had passed. That awful re-remembering, and re-re-remembering, each time I woke up.

My first thought was of Melinda, so I crept down the hall to her room just to check on her, as I did so often, no matter how old she got.

When I swung the door open to peek inside, I saw you standing by her bed, looking down at her. I stopped dead in my tracks, my whole body going cold. There is no way to describe the fear one feels when they see something that isn't natural. In the moment I didn't know what you were, but I knew who you were.

Annie.

You turned your face toward me, but you were fading, whisked away on my soft exhalation. I braced myself against the door frame, my knees weak with fear.

I never saw you with Melinda again, and I checked on her more often after that.

What I knew, though, was that you seemed to be a ghost, and ghosts are echoes of the dead. What I knew was that you must not have run away with your secret boyfriend to get married and start a life somewhere far away from Myrtle.

What I knew, because I had seen your face, was that you were still the girl you'd been when last I'd seen you, no more than sixteen.

And I knew, too, that ghosts haunt the places where they died.

You've been here ever since. You scare me simply by your nature. It's very human to fear the supernatural. But you've never hurt me, or hurt Melinda or my grandchildren, and I don't think you intend to frighten me. The creak of your footstep on the stairs, the brush of your cold hand, or the sense of you watching me while I am working outside in the garden—they're innocent things, really. It's as if you want companionship as much as I do, especially now, as the years wear on, with my family so far away.

I've named you in my mind, and I have spoken to you in my heart, but I've never told anybody about you, and I'm sure I never will—but I need to know, Annie.

For my own peace of mind, I need to know what happened to you.

I think I already do, and it scares me.