Page 56 of Specters & Spotlights

Maybe this was the next step.

Not everyone. Not everything. Just enough truth to stop hiding in plain sight.

Elise set down her comb.

“I saw a ghost,” she said. Her voice was steady, but something inside her twisted.

Kevin, drifting near the ceiling like a judgmental chandelier, added, “That’s what we call… strategic understatement.”

“I see them sometimes,” she clarified, glancing around the room. “It’s not always a big deal. But this one was… different. It scared me.”

For a moment, the silence deepened.

Then: “Whoa,” breathed Avery from the costume rack.

Sienna blinked at her through a cloud of setting spray. “Like, full-on ghost? Victorian? Bleeding walls?”

“More like tall, angry, and haunting,” Elise muttered.

There was a ripple of soft laughter. Wes made a skeptical noise, but didn’t push. Bex, sitting cross-legged on the counter, nodded solemnly like Elise had just admitted to a perfectly normal Tuesday.

Before the moment could fray, Nick slipped between them like a well-timed stagehand, towel slung around his neck, regency coat only halfway buttoned.

“She’s not messing with us,” he said, voice light but firm. “I’ve known Elise for years. She’s the real deal.”

That seemed to settle something. A few heads nodded. Casper offered a quiet, “Makes sense,” like he’d been holding that thought in for days.

Romy, ever unbothered, dabbed lip gloss onto her cupid’s bow. “I mean, I’ve done a little witchcraft. Cleansing stuff. Candles.” Then, offhandedly offered, “Lark’s the real deal, though. Way more intense.”

Elise blinked. “She is?”

Romy didn’t elaborate, just smiled and bent toward her blush palette.

Jasper leaned back in his chair and shrugged, unfazed. “We’re theatre people. Ghost stories and theatre magic come with the territory.” He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d be more suspicious if you hadn’t seen something.”

Elise blinked, a little stunned by the calm acceptance. Gratitude stirred low in her chest.

Avery twisted in her chair. “Wait, so… will you tell us about them? The ghosts you’ve seen?”

There were a few murmurs of agreement, curious glances passed like notes between cues. Elise hesitated, then gave a small nod.

“Yeah,” she said. “I could.”

Before the questions could start flying, Jen swept through the dressing room, clapping once, sharp and cheerful.

“Alright, alright—leave the poor woman alone. We don’t need a séance before curtain. Wigs and wardrobe, people!”

Groans and laughter followed, but the energy shifted, breaking apart with the timing of a well-rehearsed transition.

Jen caught Elise’s eye and gave her a wink—light, protective, perfectly timed. The buzz picked back up: call times, hairpins, someone shouting about a missing corset. No one pressed further.

Elise ducked her head toward her next wig, heart still hammering, but lighter now. Like a window had been cracked.

The secret was out. Not explained. Not solved. But accepted.

As the pre-show flurry began to crescendo, Elise started to notice a theme that began like background noise—one complaint, then another. Easily dismissed.

“Bex, can you help? My zipper’s stuck.”