Past Midnight. Mara Purnhagen

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      We all moved as one slow, sweaty herd into the adjoining room. As in the front room, all the tables and chairs had been stacked against the walls and the drapes had been pulled shut to make it darker. It took a second for me to register, but the room was much cooler than the first one. In fact, it was downright cold. Within minutes I had goosebumps.

      “Do you have a sweatshirt I could borrow?” I whispered to Annalise.

      She gave me a funny look. “There’s one in my beach bag.” She went to the corner of the room and came back holding a pink sweater. “Try this. It’s long on me, so it just might fit you.”

      I carefully set the heavy equipment down and pulled on the sweater. It was a little short but it fit, and I began to feel slightly warmer.

      Dad asked everyone to quiet down and get ready. Then he had Annalise stand in the middle of the room. After checking all the cameras twice, he gave her the signal to start talking.

      “Hello,” she said. Her voice was confident and friendly, as if she was simply introducing herself at a crowded party. “My name is Annalise and I’m wondering if anyone is here with us today.”

      One camera focused on Annalise while one stayed on my parents and the rest of the team. They held up their heat-sensing monitors and EMF (Electro Magnetic Field) readers while I positioned the microphone above their heads.

      “Okay, we’re getting something,” Mom said. “It’s faint, but it definitely wasn’t here last night.”

      I felt my nose begin to tickle and knew a sneeze was coming on. I tried to hold my breath.

      “Keep talking,” Dad instructed. “I think it’s working.”

      Annalise kept up her conversational tone, asking simple questions and then waiting a moment as if she expected an answer. My sneeze was building, I could feel it. I tried not to, but just as Annalise asked again if anyone was present, it happened. I sneezed so loudly that half the team jumped, startled, and the sound echoed off the walls. Dad shot me a disapproving look while a few people tried not to giggle.

      “Sorry,” I said, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “My bad.”

      “Charlotte, please, if you could just—” Mom was cut off by sudden activity on all the readers. “Wait a minute. We’re getting something.”

      I could see the lights of the equipment dancing wildly. It was rare to get so much activity so quickly. My parents were smiling and everyone seemed excited.

      Everyone but Annalise.

      “Um, guys? Something feels weird.” She looked around the room and grimaced.

      “What’s wrong, sweetie?” Mom asked.

      “I don’t know, but something’s not right.”

      “Just a few more minutes, okay?”

      I was watching my parents so I knew where to position the mic, but I was also keeping an eye on Annalise. Her open, casual demeanor was gone, and her patient smile had been replaced with a slight trembling, as if she was cold and scared at the same time. I had never seen her frightened before. In fact, I’d never seen anyone in my family scared. We were all rational, logical people who knew that a simple scientific reason was waiting to be discovered behind nearly everything. Something was causing massive activity in the room, but my parents would figure out what it was once they had collected all their data. Annalise had done this enough times to know that. But she was obviously freaked out. She shook her head and looked down.

      “Please? I want to leave.”

      Dad was gazing at his EMF reader. “One more minute, hon.”

      Annalise swallowed. “I can’t. I can’t stay here one more minute. I’m done.”

      Mom and Dad exchanged a glance. “Sure, of course. You can go. We’ve got enough,” Dad said, but he furrowed his brow. I knew he wanted as much recording time as he could get.

      Mom walked over to me. “Go with her,” she whispered. “I can take the mic.”

      I followed Annalise into the main dining area. She sat on the floor and covered her face with her hands. I sat next to her.

      “You okay?”

      She shook her head. “It was so strange, Charlotte,” she whispered. “I mean, I was fine, and then suddenly I felt so—so sad.”

      I rubbed her shoulder. “How do you feel now?”

      She sniffed and looked up. Her eyes were slightly red. “Better, actually.” She looked at me. “The second I left that room I felt a little better. I have goosebumps, though.”

      I pulled off the pink sweater she’d let me borrow. “Here. I stretched it out for you.”

      She laughed. “Thanks.” She looked past me, toward the other room. “Did you feel anything? I mean, besides that you were cold?”

      “No. And the cold I felt, well, that was just the room.”

      Annalise frowned. “But the room was warm. Hot, actually.”

      I thought my sister was out of sorts and I didn’t want to disagree with her about temperature. We both knew that feeling cold was often a sign of paranormal energy, but we also knew that sometimes it was just that—cold. People often read too much into it.

      Within a few minutes the team finished up, and we all helped put the tables and chairs back the way they had been, thanked Mrs. Paul for her time and headed out for a late lunch. Annalise remained quiet for most of the afternoon, and I tried to reassure her that everything was fine.

      “Just think,” I said. “You’ll never have to step foot inside that place again.”

      I didn’t know it then, but I was dead wrong.

      two

      It’s all about energy. That’s what my parents say, at least. The theory that drives them, the single idea that makes their career possible, is that ghosts do not exist but energy does. The way Dad explained it to me when I was little is still the way I like to imagine it. I had been having a hard time sleeping in the house we were renting at the time because I could hear footsteps pacing outside my door. Dad came in and sat on my bed.

      “Think of time as an ocean,” he said, smoothing my hair. “And think of yourself as a small stone tossed into that ocean. What happens when you throw a stone into water?”

      “It sinks?” I wanted Dad to stay as long as possible so I wouldn’t have to listen to the footsteps alone.

      “Well, yes. But it also creates tiny ripples on the surface, doesn’t it?”

      “Yes.”

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