Page 54 of Specters & Spotlights

“Maybe. But you're better at wigs,” Cici teased, and they both smiled.

A quiet moment passed, full of shared understanding.

“I’ll call again soon,” Elise said.

“You’d better.”

They hung up, and Elise stood for a moment in the alley behind the theatre, phone still in hand.

The alley was quiet now, save for the faint hum of neon from a nearby sign and the far-off thump of something being rolled inside the theatre. She looked up at the mural nearest her. Someone had painted wings there, all soft pinks and golds.

Gratitude, and worry, and something like hope braided together in her chest.

She slipped the phone into her carry-on pocket and turned toward the hotel, walking slowly through the fading light.

Chapter Ten

Elise

The alley greeted her like it always did—unexpected color splashed across crumbling brick, sunlight catching in the cracks of old murals.

Elise paused at the threshold just long enough to smile, the weight on her shoulders a touch lighter. The night before had helped. Her talk with Cici had stitched something back together inside her, and though the air still felt electric with unfinished business, it was bearable now.

She swiped her card. The reader blinked green. The door clicked.

As she made her way down the familiar fluorescent hallway, her chest tightened. She was nervous. Tonight would be her first performance back with the full cast since the… incident. She hoped the community she’d begun to find here hadn’t been spooked off by one scream and a quick exit.

Ahead, a door creaked open, and a tall man in a faded crew hoodie stepped into view, muttering. She caught a snippet spoken into a walkie talkie as he passed: “Lighting board’s acting up again. Going to check the damn fuse box. Third time today.”

He vanished up the stairwell before she could speak.

Elise slowed slightly, eyes drifting toward the blinking overhead light above the stairwell. It flickered twice—quick, then long—then settled.

Ah.

Kevin’s helpful techie.

Ghostly mischief. She could almost feel the spirit’s presence trailing the frayed cords and flickering bulbs. Probably not malicious, just… curious. Loyal in the way backstage crew always were.

She kept walking.

Elise was smoothing out a stubborn wig line when the door creaked open, its hinges announcing a familiar arrival.

“Hey,” Nick said, stepping inside with the soft tread of someone who didn’t want to startle her. In his hands: a coffee cup, still steaming, the lid slightly askew like he’d sampled it to make sure it was the right order.

“For you,” he added, extending it like a peace offering. “The kind with too much sugar and a frankly irresponsible amount of syrup.”

Elise accepted it with a small laugh, her fingers warming around the cup. “You remembered.”

“Hard to forget something that smells like dessert and caffeine made a very unwise baby.”

They leaned against the counter, side by side, the low hum of the theatre buzzing behind them—set pieces shifting, distant laughter echoing off the rafters. It would be showtime before long.

“I didn’t tell you everything, the other night.” Elise said quietly, not looking at him. “The ghost I saw at the cast party… it was my ex.”

Nick didn’t respond right away, but she could feel the change in his energy—like a thread pulled taut. “The one from before?”

She nodded, fingers tightening slightly around the cup. “He’s dead. But somehow, he still found me.”