Page 14 of Ghost in the Night

Robby peers at the screen again. “I see something. But it’s probably just some weird reflection.”

I suck my teeth. “Be so real right now.”

Robby shrugs his shoulders. “I’m being more real than you thinking you got a picture of a ghost.”

“Ugh! I don’t know why I’m bothering explaining myself. I’m gonna get this printed. And maybe with that window part blown up, we can really see it.”

Robby huffs. “And if we don’t?”

“I’ll have a creepy artistic picture. Like the ones you see in art museums.”

Robby laughs. “Fine. Since we’re out, can we stop at the bookstore after? Or maybe get some ice cream? Or take a bus down to the arcade. Or maybe—”

“Boy, you sound like you got a whole day planned. Don’t you ever leave the house?”

He shrinks a bit. “Not a lot. Not without Mama.”

“Ah, so I’m a babysitter now?”

“Pfft. No one would call you that. Especially since you’re seeing things like ghosts!”

I look down at the brick sidewalk and shudder, wondering what’s buried beneath us.

A bell rings as we enter the empty shop. Old-school printers line the walls, dust on almost everything.

“Uh, you couldn’t find a nicer spot?” Robby whispers.

When I googled “print shops,” this was the first one that came up. I thought it would be more up-to-date too, but we’re already here, no sense in turning back now.

Behind the counter, a girl about my age slumps on her high stool, clicking away at a computer. She has short black braids and wears a vintage TLC T-shirt, her face slick and moisturized. She’s really pretty, probably real popular at school too. You can tell sometimes, in the way people carry themselves. Like just breathing is a chore. She doesn’t even look up at us.

I open my mouth right as an older gentleman walks out of the back office.

“Hey, there. How can we help y’all?”

The girl yawns, eyes falling on us as if she just noticed we were standing in the middle of the store.

I smile at her but she doesn’t smile back.

“Hi! I need to print a picture.”

The man nods. “My baby girl here can help you out.” He pats the girl on her shoulder. “Right, Myah?”

Myah winces a smile up at her dad and straightens her shoulders.

“So,” she mumbles to me. “What we printing today?”

He smirks and tips his head. “You in good hands! Be right back.”

Myah frowns at him as he grabs a bunch of boxes, the bell ringing as he leaves.

Myah groans and raises an eyebrow at me, hand outstretched, waving her fingers as if to say “gimme.”

I’m a little nervous handing this girl my memory card. She clearly isn’t happy about being here. Does she even know how to open a file?

“Um, it’s number 0248, from yesterday,” I say with a gulp, giving her my life’s work. So silly. I should’ve made a copy ofthe card before leaving the house. Regular cameras don’t upload to the cloud like cell phones.

Myah snatches the card and pops it into a reader attached to a large PC computer. She taps a few keys on the dusty board and frowns.