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as I can. Doesn’t always work.”

I stop. “Oh. It’s you.”

In the dim orange light from above the stove, I see a pot filled with water and ramen noodles. I pull the blanket tightly around my shoulders, now wishing I hadn’t left my handgun upstairs. Psh, what good’s a gun against a demon spirit, anyway? What I need is an exorcist, but what do you do when the exorcist is the one who’s possessed?

“She still gets rest. Her mind, I mean. That’s the most important thing.”

“You keep her up like this a lot?”

“No. Never. I try to respect her…” She can’t latch onto the right word.

“Her property?”

“Her ownership. This body was hers long before it was also mine. I never take command, unless it’s important.”

“I see. Ramen noodles are very important.”

“I don’t know why I make them. Just a habit, I guess. Going through the motions of a past life. I grew up in Southern California. Then we lived in Phoenix and Las Vegas. I’ll never get used to these winters.”

“We’re really talking about the weather over a pot of noodles? I have to say, you don’t sound like a demon. Wanting her to rest. Respecting her body. I’d almost say you like her.”

Hillerman—or whoever she is right now—turns to face me with closed eyes. “I love her. More than anything, and now more than I ever did in life.”

My shoulders go slack, the blanket sliding down them as my brain fires rapidly, connecting dots from Hillerman’s explanation of possessing spirits—how the host can strengthen their bond by adopting physical traits that belong to the spirit; how Charlotte covered her arms with the tattoos of her dead husband, and colors her hair blonde like his was, and wears his wedding band; how she killed him herself, an act which would create a special bond between them—a haunting, which, in this case, would have been welcomed. All this time, she kept this from me, but never once did she lie to me. It’s true her husband is dead. But he’s never been gone.

“Matthew? Matthew Hillerman?”

Her eyelashes fill with tears. One slides down her cheek. “You’re the first person to ever look at this face, but call me that name.”

The whole story clicks in my head. And breaks my heart. “Tabitha Durran was going to use Matt’s body as a vessel for her father’s spirit, so Hillerman—Charlotte—killed your body, but only after taking you out of it.”

“That’s Charlotte for you. If she couldn’t have me, nobody could.” A laugh catches in her throat.

I wave my hand. “And you can see me right now? With your—her—eyes closed?”

“I see both your world and the Deep. When her mind is awake, she can also use my sight.”

“So that’s how she can see ghosts. And she can hear you in her mind? You…talk to each other?”

“That’s right. Do you need to sit? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah, no. I just…”

She pulls out a chair for me at the table and we sit down. I can’t stop staring at her. At him? Look, I’m just going to call him a him, even though he’s in the body of a her. It’s not as confusing as you might think. Although he has Charlotte’s face, it’s easy for me to see that she’s not “home” at the moment. Matt carries her body very differently. Much more relaxed and casual. He slouches over the table, resting his face on a fist.

“I’m sure you have lots of questions,” he says. “I can answer the big one right now.” He takes a deep, dramatic breath and releases it. “The answer is yes, I enjoy having my own boobs to play with whenever I want.”

For what surely must be the first time in my life, I’m the one caught off guard by an ill-timed joke. I can’t imagine what my face looks like right now, but Matt finds it funny. When he chuckles softly, I can’t help but notice that Charlotte looks beautiful when she smiles.

“Hold on, are you funny? Because I can’t see Hillerman—er, Charlotte—being with somebody who’s funny. That’s just not right.”

“Isn’t it, though? Look at you and Brenner. You’re funny and he’s not. You’re the Matt and he’s the Charlotte. It works. I’ve been telling her that since you two met.”

“You guys talk about us?”

“Oh, constantly. She likes Brenner, but wishes you’d never met him.”

“No, what? Why?”

“She says he holds you back, he’s just in the way, but I’m like, ‘Charlotte, he’s not in her way. He is her way.”

I slap the table. “Yes, thank you! You really said that to her?”

“She rolled her eyes, of course, but look, you can’t take her attitude personally. She’s just…actually, if anything, she’s being protective of you, because she sees you guys being a lot like us, and look how that turned out.”

“Oh, so it’s actually just a tough-love act? No, thank you. Got enough of that growing up.”

“From your mom, I know.”

I throw my hands out. “You guys talk about my mom issues?!”

“I sit all day and watch people through Charlotte’s eyes. What else would we talk about? Shayne, you have no idea how surreal it is to be actually talking out loud to you.”

“So we’ve never spoken before? I mean, before last night?”

“No. I told you, I respect her ownership. I don’t take joy rides.” He shifts uncomfortably. “In fact, I’ve never spoken to anybody. I shouldn’t be talking to you now. If Charlotte knew…” He chokes down thick emotion. “But it’s time. And it has to be you.”

“What? No, no, no. That sounds ominous, and whatever it’s time for, I promise you, if it involves Special Agent Hillerman, then I’m not the one it has to be, no matter what ‘it’ is. Have you really been in there all this time, watching? Because I feel like you should know this already. Oh, here’s an idea. How about you stay in command forever? Because me and Charlotte could never talk like this.”

“You’re wrong. She could.”

“She could if you worked her mouth like

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