So. A ghost.

  Maika lay in their bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  What would their ancestors say? If it weren't for colonisation and urbanisation dividing their family from their tūrangawaewae, maybe Maika would have a better idea of the tikanga for this situation. Stay, and engage with this messenger from the other side? Or flee, and whakanoa somehow after being in this tapu state? Washing their hands when leaving the urupā, they knew that much tikanga. They'd immersed their entire body in the lake; was that not enough?

  And there was of course the other side of the problem: they didn't want to leave. They wanted to understand.

  Was it safe to chase that kind of understanding? After all they had been through?

  Their eyes flicked over to the closet. Around its frame, a rectangle of light escaped, a doorway to a grow-your-own heaven. The plant Christian had given them was close to maturing. Maybe when Maika opened the door, they'd find something to harvest.

  Maika sighed out a long breath. All things considered, they didn't feel so bad. This bed was way more comfortable than the one in their own flat. They'd slept better these last two nights than... well, maybe any other night in the last fifteen years. There was something about this bed, or this quiet lakeside atmosphere, which saw them at peace. Able, if not to ignore the gaping black hole at the centre of their being, then to maintain an even orbit around the edge of it where they weren't being pulled in all the time. So maybe they didn't need medicinal help to rise above those bad thoughts just yet?

  They pried gently at these new feelings, as if too close an observation would shatter the equanimity like a soap bubble, and see them diving into another binge.

  Their phone buzzed. They grabbed it up and wiped at their eyes to wake up properly.

  Kirsten: Dinner meeting. We need to make arrangements to leave. Staying here isn't healthy for any of us.

  Geez, why was she so abrupt about it? Ah - it was in the group chat which included Chad. Fair enough.

  She was right, of course. They shouldn't stay, for any number of reasons.

  Which meant that, if Maika intended to find anything out about this house and this ghost, they would have to find out today. Maybe tomorrow at a stretch, depending on how fast Kirsten and her wallet moved.

  Maika rose and dressed in a fresh t-shirt and not-so-fresh jeans, throwing the habitual cardigan over their shoulders once more. They took their phone and notebook, just in case anything needed documenting on this little fact-finding mission. Room by room, they combed the level of the house they occupied. They knew that Kirsten and Chad were in the two largest bedrooms on the floor below. The location of Ginny's bedroom was still a mystery to them. By the end of their investigation of the third storey, they surmised that it couldn't be on this level: the only other bedroom was unoccupied, and the rest of the rooms were either bare or minimally furnished with a hint of mustiness indicating their lack of use.

  When they were down on the second storey, they peeked through an unused bedroom's window to see that the car was already back in the driveway. Geez, Kirsten was organised: awake, gone and back before Maika had even risen from bed, so far as they guessed.

  They stepped away from the window only to come back a second later at the strangest sight. It was so strange, they had to traipse downstairs and out into the driveway to actually believe their own eyes.

  Down the passenger's side of the little blue rental was a scrape which travelled the length of the car. Scored into the electric blue paint were twin canyons of flakey white and an underside of metal. It was dented too: no handmade scrape, this. The car had most definitely driven right up against something, another car perhaps - although there were no rival paint chips amongst the flecks of blue, so that suggested some other roadside object.

  When the hell had this happened?

  Maika shook off the anxious breath that started up: it wouldn't matter. Kirsten was rich, she could cover this easy.

  But still... when had she gotten into an accident? This morning? It had to be her, surely. None of the others were insured to drive it.

  Maika went back inside the house at a determined striding pace, wanting to make sure she was all right, that she had talked to someone, that she wasn't too shaken up. They were dreading the idea of a knock on her closed door if it came to that, interrupting her flow. Luckily, they found Kirsten having a break from writing, drinking coffee in the kitchen.

  "Kirst! You okay?"

  Kirsten turned from the sink, mug between her hands. It wasn't quite a jump, but it wasn't a completely calm turn either. The liquid in her mug sloshed and swayed, threatening to breach the rim, but falling short. An over-reaction, surely? Maika was certain they hadn't snuck into the room, their flat feet always too noisy for such roguery. But then again, maybe she was just shaken up from the near-miss.

  "Yeah, I'm okay. Why do you ask?"

  "The... car...?" Maika waved their hands vaguely in the direction of the driveway, unable to quite school their face into hiding their incredulity.

  "The car," Kirsten repeated, staring into her coffee.

  "Yeah, the car."

  "What about it?"

  "The big scrape down the side?"

  "The big... what?" That final syllable was shouted. Kirsten put down her mug and charged past Maika toward the front door. Maika followed, teeth already stuck in a rictus cringe.

  Kirsten threw open the front door and stood in front of the car, hands either side of her head, breathing exaggerated. Her silence was almost more terrible than any loud noise that might follow. When she spoke, it was deadly soft. "Who did this?"

  "Uh... I was going to ask you the same question."

  "Was it Chad?"

  "So far as I know, no. You're the only one who was allowed to drive - though I suppose, if he was feeling spiteful enough, Chad might have stolen the keys. Did they go missing at any point? I mean, you were planning to go grocery shopping today, right?"

  Kirsten stared at her hand and did not answer.

  "Kirsten?"

  Was she shaking?

  "It was awful, Maika."

  "What was?"

  "At the supermarket." To their horror, her eyes were welling up. "I heard someone whispering about me. At least, I think. I heard someone say what I think is the French word for 'Chinese'. I think they were blaming my presence for the bird flu."

  "Oh. Fuck. Kirsten, I'm sorry." Maika closed the distance between them, wrapping their arms around her. "That's so fucked. I'm sorry."

  "I'm okay. Really, I'm okay," she murmured, but she wiped her tearful face against the shoulder of their cardigan nevertheless. "I wasn't going to say, but you get it. The other two... they can't understand this. But you do."

  Maika patted her back and nodded. "Yeah, fam. I get it. And it's all right about this little accident. You've got the money to cover it -"

  Kirsten pulled out of their arms. "You think I did this?"

  Maika raised their hands defensively. "Sorry, I'm confused. Are you saying Chad did steal the car keys off you?"

  Kirsten narrowed her eyes, then patted her jeans pocket. A finger hooked, and she extracted the keys. "No..." she said, her voice ominously quiet.

  What the hell were they supposed to say right now? She still looked as if she were shaking. Yep, the hand holding the keys definitely was. "Hey, um... don't worry too much, eh?"

  "I don't remember scraping the car. I would remember scraping the car... wouldn't I?"

  "Maybe it was the stress of the supermarket incident. Or maybe it's this whole... ghost thing, yeah? And the argument with Chad last night. If it was you, I mean. Which I'm not saying it definitely was. But if you don't remember for sure, then... maybe come inside, and eat an early lunch, yeah?"

  "Yeah... yeah, all right. And I should probably have a sleep afterward. I haven't been sleeping all that well."

  "It's a plan. Come on, I'll put one of those microwave meals on for you."

  Kirsten rolled her eyes, smiling briefly, the corners of her lips turning down before long. "How gallant of you."

  Maika went about the business of caring for Kirsten without asking any of the burning questions inside. Now was not the time. Never mind her intentions for tonight over dinner, or what might have occurred on the drive. All that could wait until she looked a little less frazzled. This was very unlike her. While she scoffed her food down, Maika heated up their own. A very simple mac and cheese.

  "Thanks, Maika. I'll see you at dinner time. I'll cook."

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Maika's eyes boggled at her empty plastic tray. That had been fast. "You must have been hungry. Up you go. Sweet dreams."

  They took their food out of the microwave, peeled off the lid, and had just sat down to enjoy it when into the room walked Chad.

  If Kirsten looked frazzled, Chad looked positively haunted.

  "Hey man. You okay?" Maika called over, through their mouthful of nuclear-hot pasta and melted cheese.

  Chad glared over, and threw the pantry door open between them, blocking their view of each other. "What's it to you?"

  Maika took another bite of mac and cheese, savouring the taste as they thought about what to say next. "We had a blow-up last night, but I want to make sure you're still okay, man. I think - I hope - that there is something salvageable of our almost two decades of friendship. Though I have to say, you have made me question if it's worth it, when last night you exposed yourself to be something of a racist, and a transphobe, and..." Was it right to press him on this? Yeah. Fuck it. Dude had been a little shit last night. "... and I had a little theory about you a while ago. I discarded it out of the generosity of my friendship towards you, but it became very interesting and relevant last night."

  "The fuck are you going on about?" Chad muttered, bringing cereal and a breakfast bowl out with him.

  Maika got a thrill from getting a rise out of him, but took their time eating another mouthful in order to not press too soon and rile him right up too obviously. "You got real defensive, accusing us of using AI. Which struck me as really odd, actually. Why would you bring that up, of all things? And then I thought about it some more. None of us are all that technical. Sure, Ginny has a bit more skill in that area. But then there's you. You did a double degree, with CompSci being your other major, as I recall. You're always posting on socials about computer shit that goes way over my head. Blockchain, NFTs, crypto, whatever the fuck that stuff is. So I came to the inevitable realisation..."

  Maika paused, and relished in the obvious hate seething from Chad's face: bared teeth, narrowed eyes; and the way his fists clenched and unclenched. Dude couldn't even hide it.

  "You're the one who's been using AI." The rage didn't change, but there was perhaps the most imperceptible nod of Chad's head, as if some part of him wanted the truth to come out. "I'm willing to bet some of your books were written by AI." Maika watched his face boil, red spreading all over, and they pressed further, astounded even as they asked, "Wait, all of your books? Holy shit dude, are you for real?"

  "You can't prove it," Chad spat.

  "You're right, I can't, but I don't care about proving it to anyone. It's enough that I know, and you know I know. And I can see by your face, how right I am about that." It was amazing, how the red drained slowly from Chad's face at this point. He was still pissed, but the fact that Maika wasn't going to blab seemed to calm him down a smidge. "Damn, am I the first person to realise this? Man... full credit to you, honestly. You must have been doing a good enough job at editing whatever dribbled out of the arse of your machines, in order to fool so many people. Honestly, that's a fucking talent! Why don't you use that? You could be a freakin' kick-arse editor for someone - oh, but no, of course, I know why. Because no matter how amazing an editor you might be, it wouldn't say Chad Woodham on the cover, would it?"

  "Fuck you," Chad growled, and turned away to face the sink, his hands gripping the bench.

  "So the accusations you threw at us last night, yelling and ranting and scaring the fuck out of Ginny - that's because you were using AI to write about Emilie, eh?"

  "No!" Chad shouted, rounding on Maika again. His volume lowered, and his tone was earnest as he insisted, "Never that. This place... this place has inspired me again. My words about Emilie are my own."

  "Ha. Sure. I bet this place inspired you. Not like... the sugar plum fairy instead?" Maika couldn't hide the shit-eating grin that spread across their mouth.

  Why that? Behind their grin, Maika winced. Why the fuck had they brought that up? It was too close to talking about what had happened - and hadn't Chad stopped using after that night? But Maika didn't feel like backing down now, not with all he'd just learned.

  Chad's teeth gritted, and for the first time in this entire conversation, Maika was aware of how close the two of them were to the knife block. They put their hands on the kitchen island between them, protectively poised either side of their mac and cheese.

  When Chad spoke, it was a hissing whisper. "You really going to bring that shit up, with what you're doing in the closet of your room?"

  "Better that than the shit you were on in uni. That stuff was nasty."

  "I told you back then, I'm done with that stuff."

  Maika made a conscious effort to keep their voice down. "Then why can't you keep calm for a second, bro? You're acting all hyped up, like you're back on nose candy. Why have you been the first to jump down everyone's throats at a second's notice? First day we got here, you're dropping all these microaggressions all over the place, pissing everyone off. Next day, you're accusing us of stealing from you and using AI... The problem is you, man. The rest of us are chill. The way I see it, you're lucky Kirsten's even considering helping you get home, rather than just ditching your ungrateful arse."

  His red face, growing redder again throughout Maika's rant, paled once more. "Wait, what? She wants us to leave?"

  "Yeah, haven't you checked your phone?"

  Chad pulled it out and tore at his hair with his free hand. "No, we can't leave. This is way too... how can you guys even want to leave? We're in touch with something from the other side. You fucking cowards."

  "Well, geez, okay man, don't hold back. But actually, do. If you have a case for staying, then present it at dinner tonight, but calmly, instead of raving about it. Because I know hearing this might piss you off, but you've been the fucking poster-boy for toxic masculinity this trip."

  Chad grimaced, but had already turned away from Maika, typing furiously on his phone. "God, you're such a traitor to your gender, bro."

  Maika puffed, pushed back from the kitchen island, and crossed their arms. The mac and cheese could come with them. They were done being in the same room as Chad. "First of all, Chad, I'm not your bro. Not while you're like this. That's a nickname you have to earn, and right now I don't trust you enough to call you that in earnest. Second, as much as I know you're going to call me woke or some shit like that, I'm non-binary. I don't expect you to understand. But I'm done having you think I'm 'on your side' or whatever, just because we were born male. Fucking shape up, man, or you're going to lose the longest, realest friendships in your life. Remember friendship? That used to be us. Not the fucked-up so-called friends you've made on quad-chan or whatever."

  The silence was thick for a good ten seconds. Chad's voice was dull, as he said, still facing away, "You're only friends with me because you're stuck with me."

  "You can look at it that way, if you want," Maika said, the bitterness draining out of his voice as Tessa's face sprung to mind. They swallowed hard. "Or you can look at it as a legacy for someone who never got to grow old. At least, that's what I thought this was, our friendship. Not an absolution... but a balance, utu, between us all. I still believe in that, don't you?"

  Chad's knuckles around his phone grew white.

  "All the anger aside, Chad... I'm worried about you. What happened to you? You used to be just..."

  "Normal? The fuck, Maika? How can you even try to be normal after what we did?"

  The breath caught in Maika's lungs. Chad had a point. Maybe freaking out was the only reasonable response to what they had been through. How could they ever try to be normal again? Maybe none of them deserved normal.

  But they couldn't leave it like this. Convention dictated that something be said now, something to smooth over the emotional bruises. "What we did, we did for all of us, man. And I seem to remember, you were throwing the blame on me, and you were begging for normality most out of all of us."

  Chad looked at Maika for a split second, then turned away once more. "No wonder the ghost has it out for me."

  Had that been fear in his eyes? "What are you talking about?"

  Chad paused, his back to Maika. Seconds passed, then he left the room, feet loud on the hardwood floors.

  Maika was alone again, but they still didn't want to stay in the room. Not with the chill that had run down their spine at Chad's final sentence. Picking up their half-eaten dish, they made their slow way out to the patio through the already open doors.

  To their surprise, Ginny was out there. She was frozen, eyes already looking in Maika's direction when they entered. "Sorry. I heard all of that. I didn't want to move past the door in case he saw me."

  Maika waved a hand and sat at the painted iron table. "No worries. Nothing in there I wouldn't want you to hear. Chad, however... I don't know. I can't get a fix on the guy."

  Ginny lowered herself to sitting delicately, like she was a porcelain doll in that silken dress. "He's gotten more and more extreme over the years. I think we all gave him the benefit of the doubt a tad too generously. Though..." She glanced sidelong at Maika, the evasiveness in her brown eyes and the grin playing her lips both engaging, attractive. "What was that he said right at the end there? He was too quiet for me to hear properly."

  Maika shook their head, and chewed a mouthful of their cooling food before answering. "Something about the ghost having it out for him?"

  "Huh." Ginny faced out to the lake, her hands folded in her lap. After a good ten seconds' contemplation, she said, "Is it wrong that I'd get a kick out of Chad getting haunted by a ghost?"

  Maika snorted, and Ginny chuckled, her head lowered, looking at Maika through her lashes.

  Damn it. She was too unbearably cute. It was time for them to take their shot.

  "So Ginny, what's the deal? You single?"

  "Who, me?" she replied, playing up the coquettishness with a hand to her chest. "Yes I am, why do you ask?" Then her face fell and she dropped her hand and tone. "Hang on, why do you ask?"

  Maika shrugged. They were sure their friendship would survive the following admission. "I like you - of course I like you, I've been your friend for nearly two decades. I find you attractive. I just thought... why not? You miss every shot you don't take, right?"

  Ginny sighed, her smile underlied by her blush and her eyes refusing to meet Maika's. "Except... you could never hit the target when it comes to me, sorry. I'm a lesbian."

  "Ah." In a way, it was a relief. No chance of losing a friend after being a disappointing partner. "Oh well. It's probably for the best. You deserve the finer things in life anyhow, not a worn-out old man-slut like me."

  "Maika!" Ginny reached out and slapped their hand. "You are not a ... my goodness, my friend, that is not a healthy way to talk about oneself. Besides, you're not a man-slut, you're a... them-fatale."

  Maika clicked their fingers. "Yes! Love that. I'm stealing that."

  "I didn't come up with it, but I don't remember where I saw it, sorry. But please, use that now. Not the other words you said before. You're a beautiful person, Maika, and if I weren't a hundred percent inclined in a certain direction, I'd give you a chance. I swear."

  Maika blushed, and rubbed the back of their neck. "Thanks, Gin." A silence extended between them, on the verge of uncomfortable. Once the hush of the lake's waves felt as if they'd been going on too long unbroken, Maika spoke. "So... women, eh?"

  "Yes. Emphatically. Obviously. Doubly so, in my case." Ginny gestured at herself, face flushing as she chuckled.

  Maika waggled their eyebrows. "What about Kirsten?"

  Ginny cringed, and Maika regretted asking, but she answered, gazing out over the water, "I had a crush on her, once. But not anymore. Every now and again, it's like I have a... ghost of the old feeling..."

  "Pun intended?"

  Ginny rolled her eyes and snorted. "What about you?"

  "Me and Kirsten?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Fuck no. She's way too uptight. I'd drive her mental. She needs someone who has their shit together, cos she's like a million miles out of my league."

  "Oh, but I'm not?"

  Maika gaped. "I didn't mean..."

  "No, no, I know. We're both more... broken than she is. And that would either lead to us helping one another grow, or..."

  "Or we'd get co-dependently tangled up in each other and it would be a fucking disaster."

  "Got it in one." Ginny smiled and patted Maika's hand, then rose. "Love you, Maika. As a friend."

  "Love you too."

  "I'm going to go upstairs and write some more. I know Kirsten wants us to talk about leaving all of a sudden, and maybe we should, but... I want to write with the ghost of Emilie for as long as I'm allowed."

  "Sure. Go hard."

  Maika watched Ginny vanish into the house. They wanted to write too. That was a surprise to them, after so many years of wanting to write in principle, but dreading the actuality of the thing. Crazy. Upstairs sat a lovely, pungent plant and a duty-free shelf's worth of booze, but for perhaps the first time in their life, they wanted none of it.

  They had everything they needed right now, albeit it with the complication of Chad's presence. A reprieve from the rush of capitalism out in the big wide world. A break from the post-colonial and gender-binary context of home. A good friend in Ginny. And a story to be told.

  That was the weirdest one of all. Perhaps that was the answer to why they weren't chasing a drug-fueled high. Channeling a ghost was a different kind of high altogether. Something speaking through them, like they were a mad prophet.

  They opened their notebook, over-extending the spine with a purposeful creak, and put their pen to the page. It felt alive, like a lit match.