Page 77 of Specters & Spotlights

Elise’s stomach clenched. “And?”

“There’s a missing person report now,” Jen said. “Officially. They asked a lot of questions I didn’t have answers for. I had to explain how a phone that belonged to a missing girl turned up in a theatre hundreds of miles away from where she disappeared.”

Elise swallowed. “That’s… hard to explain.”

“Yeah.” Jen rubbed the back of her neck. “Which is why I’m asking: do you think this is… something else? Something supernatural?” She dropped her voice, eyes scanning the empty wing. “Is Ellen in danger? Do you know what’s going on?”

Elise’s throat tightened. “I don’t know. I feel like something’s wrong. But that’s all it is. A feeling.”

Jen studied her face, then nodded slowly. “I believe you. I just…” Her voice cracked a little. “I’m really worried. If she doesn’t turn up soon, we’re going to have to replace her. We can’t keep the understudy role open forever. I hate even saying that.” Every show where there wasn’t an understudy in the wings was a potential show-ruining disaster waiting to happen.

Elise nodded. “I understand.”

She did. But understanding didn’t make the pit in her stomach feel any smaller.

Pre-show rituals unfolded as they always did: stretching, laughter that was a little too sharp, warm-ups echoing from the green room. But under it all, something buzzed. A frequency too low to hear but impossible not to feel.

Elise moved through it all like someone trying to wade through static. The air felt heavier tonight. Not just because of the phone or the whispers, or even the knowledge of what she and Cici planned to attempt later. It was something more. Something unseen. But not unfelt.

She was adjusting pins on a wig block when she heard it—shouting, scattered movement, the ripple of something not going according to plan.

Romy.

“I heard her,” Romy insisted to a gathering crowd in the green room, her voice trembling just enough to quiet the noise around her. “I was walking past the hallway, that weird one, and she said my name. Ellen said my name.”

The silence that followed was immediate.

Elise stepped closer, heart thudding. Romy looked stricken but certain.

“I know her voice,” she said to the hushed room, and her voice cracked slightly. “I know it was her.”

Just to the left, Lark froze. She wasn’t front and center, wasn’t drawing attention—but Elise clocked the change anyway. A flicker of alarm beneath a carefully composed face. Her eyes darted toward the hallway and back, and for the briefest moment, her grip tightened on the edge of a chair.

Elise’s stomach knotted. She ducked back into the wig station, nerves buzzing. She checked the corners. Alone.

“Kevin?” she muttered.

“I heard it,” Kevin said, sounding more alert than usual. “But I don’t know what it is. That’s… not how ghosts usually work.”

“Could it be her? Ellen’s spirit?”

Kevin hesitated. “If it is, something’s off. It’s not like she could be a ghost tethered to this place. If anything, it sounds like someone reaching through.”

Elise felt the chill run up her arms. She didn’t have time to investigate—not yet. The show was starting, and the wigs weren’t going to pin themselves.

But she made a mental note to tell Cici everything. They had a plan for tonight. A FaceTime spell—unorthodox, but it was the best they could do from different cities.

It’s going to be a busy night, she thought, and tucked the thought away.

It was nearly time for places.

Nick was in the chair, halfway through getting his wig secured. Ed stood off to the side, flipping through his script even though he’d long since memorized his lines. Graham strolled in right on cue for his usual hair check, like clockwork.

Elise gave him a look as he approached, her fingers still pinning the last section of Nick’s hair. “You know your hair never needs anything.”

“Still good to be thorough,” Graham replied, grinning. “What if one of these days I show up with a rogue cowlick?”

She arched a brow. “You? I’m not convinced your hair can be mussed.”