Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“A MONTH???” Kitty yelled, closely followed by various other, and equally loud, sounds of disapproval from the other ghosts.  

“You can’t go for a whole month, Alison!”   

Alison sighed. She knew something like this would happen if she told the ghosts about the prize that Mike and her had won. Then again, she had no doubt that the resulting chaos that would have erupted if she had left without saying anything would be far worse, so she just stood and listened to them shout for a moment before shushing them.  

“Come on, guys! It’s an all expenses paid trip to Canada! How could we turn that down?”  

“Technically they’re just paying for the plane tickets and hotel” said Mike, standing in the doorway. “How many of them are here?”  

Alison half-smiled and half-grimaced as she said, “pretty much all of them.”  

“Ah,” he responded. “Not taking it well?”  

She sighed again before turning to the ghosts, who once again had started to raise their voices.  

“Look! Me and Mike are going on this holiday, okay? It’s only for a month, I’ll turn the pages in all your books and set up the tv with the next season of friends. I’ll even sacrifice my laptop so that you guys can check in if you want to chat. Just... please let me get on with packing, our plane leaves tomorrow.”  

There was an almost palpable silence, followed by an almost completely unanimous grumble of dissatisfaction. The exception to this was Pat, who sighed before admitting they were desperately in need of a break.  

Since the fire in the gatehouse, both Alison and Mike had been drowning in paperwork regarding the next steps they were going to take now that their plan A had gone bust. Luckily, they were far from broke as their insurance company had supplied a large sum of money to compensate, which for now they were going to use to get them through the next month. Thankfully, the Coopers wouldn’t have to pay to heat Button House while they were away as the ghosts were unable to feel temperature, and the only electricity that would be needed was the laptop that would have to remain plugged in so that it never ran out of battery, and the TV, which could be turned on and off by Julian anyway.  

The next few hours were (miraculously in Alison’s opinion) much quieter. The ghosts filed out of the room to vent their frustrations about the new situation somewhere Alison couldn’t hear them, and allowed her and Mike to pack their suitcases. ‘Good, not enough things go without incident for us,’ she thought.  

When it came time to leave the next day, she bid her goodbyes to the ghosts, who insisted upon running after the car for as long as they could before the border of the land stopped them.  

Alison felt bad for leaving so abruptly and for so long, but she had a feeling that the ghosts would be alright without her. Besides, she and Mike did really need a break.  

Back at the house, the deader of the button house inhabitants were gathered in the (ironically named) living room.  

The Captain paced around the area behind the couch, upon which sat Kitty, Pat and Humphrey’s head, which was propped against a pillow. The other couch was occupied by Fanny and Thomas, as Robin and Julian took up their normal places, in the middle of a game of chess.  

The two of them seemed, for the most part, completely indifferent to their new circumstances, and just wanted to get on with their not-lives as normally as possible. What neither would ever admit out loud was the fact that both missed Alison and Mike already and wanted to pretend nothing was happening in order to combat that.  

Finally, the Captain spoke. “I suppose we could, um... go back to our routines from before Alison moved in?”  

“That’s a good idea actually!” Said Pat, trying to lighten the mood. “Except this time, we’ll have something to look forward to! And, because Alison left us her laptop, we can watch call her whenever we want to talk to her.”  

“Yeah, and it’s not like she’s gonna be gone for long, anyway. I don’t know why you’re all so upset about it.” Said Julian, following this immediately with his next chess move.  

“I’m upset because Alison’s going to be gone for an entire month, obviously!” Said Kitty, who stood up and walked purposefully out of the room.  

“I guess we... uh. Just get on with things then.” Thomas spoke quietly, muttering to himself before exiting the room through the wall next to the fireplace.  

One by one, the other ghosts (aside from Julian, Robin and Humphrey, who had been forgotten again) left the living room, going to use their preferred methods of distracting themselves.  

“Willy-shaped dude-”  

“Bishop!”  

“Eh, he go.. Dooka dooka dooka. Checkmate.”  

“Hm? Oh, yes. Right, best of 50?”  

“You on.”  

Chapter Text

The next morning, after about four hours of uneasy sleep on the hotel’s lumpy mattress, Mike and Alison decided not to fight it and just get up to walk around the town for a while before getting breakfast back at the hotel.  

Stepping outside the building for the first time since the night before, Alison noticed just how cold it was. Her phone had said 6 degrees Celsius, and it had meant it.  

Mike brought his shoulders up slightly in a half-hearted attempt to keep his ears warm, saying “a bit cold here...”  

“I told you it was a good idea to bring a scarf.” Alison retorted.  

“Yeah, you did.” He looked around the dimly lit streets, “I might be able to buy one when the shops open.”  

“Good plan.” The pair started walking down the street together, continuing the conversation.  

“And hey! This time my souvenir that I get for myself can be functional as well as fun!”  

Alison turned to look at him. “You said that last time.”  

“Yeah!” Mike responded. “That mug was very useful; I use it all the time.”  

Raising an eyebrow, Alison opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped herself as she met the pair of eyes through the fog. They belonged to a girl wearing a white short sleeved shirt and a torn, bloodied pinafore. She looked young, around 16, and she had an aura around her that Alison felt very well acquainted with.  

“... Alison?”  

“There’s a girl over there, watching us. From behind the fence.”  

“What?” Mike turned around to where she was looking, expecting to see someone there. But, when his eyes met with nothing but a sign reading “The Annual Uranium City Fall Fair”, he paused.  

“I... I can’t see anyone. D’you think she might be a ghost?”  

“... I think so, yeah. If the blood is enough to go by.”  

“What? Why would there be a ghost in the fairground? And... what happened to her?”  

“I don’t know... I could try asking her?”  

Mike shrugged, muttering “couldn’t hurt, could it?”  

As the pair began to walk towards the fence, with Alison not breaking eye contact with the girl, who appeared to be frozen to the spot in terror.  

“Hey, are you alright?” Alison asked. The girl still didn’t respond, but as they were approaching her, Alison confirmed her suspicions. Most of her entire lower body was covered in blood, and her face was a pale white, perhaps brought out even more by her long ginger hair. Her outfit looked like it was a school uniform of some kind; one that was undoubtedly neat and tidy in life. She looked afraid, as if she thought they would try to attack her. She murmured something which Alison couldn’t fully hear, before taking a step backwards, turning on her heel and darting back out of sight behind a tall box with the inscription “The Amazing Karnak”. Just before she disappeared, Alison noticed that her back was also completely soaked in blood, though it didn’t seem to have been from her own injuries somehow.  

“WAIT!” Alison yelled. “I’m not going to hurt you or anything! I- I physically can’t!”  

Silence followed, during which Mike glanced awkwardly between Alison and the fence.  

“You’re a ghost, right? I can see ghosts. My name’s Alison, what’s yours?”  

Another pause, before finally, a quiet voice could be heard. “Ocean,” the girl said. “Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg.”  

Alison smiled. “Okay, Ocean. Can you come back so I can see you?”  

“How can you see me?” Her answer was much louder than when she had told them her name, sounding almost defensive.  

“I... had an accident, a few years ago. I almost died, but when I woke up, I could see ghosts. I honestly don’t know anything about it other than that though, so that’s pretty much it.” she paused, silently trying to figure out what might have happened to a teenage girl in a fairground that had killed her. Then, it finally clicked, and she remembered where she heard the name Uranium City before.  

When Alison was in college, she had read about a fatal rollercoaster accident which had resulted in the death of six Canadian teenagers, referred to by news outlets as “our six saints”. The cart had broken on the top of the loop-the-loop, and then fallen almost 80ft. The accident was infamous and had made international news, but had, as all news does eventually, faded out of the mainstream media. It had, after all, been a little over 14 years ago, and the world keeps turning round, even following such a tragedy. Because of this, Alison couldn’t remember any of the kids’ names, or anything in any greater detail.  

“Mike!” Alison whispered. He looked at her, puzzled.  

“What did she say?”  

“Google the name Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg, I think I remember hearing about how she died ages ago.”  

Mike pulled out his phone and began typing, just as Ocean re-emerged from behind the box. She still looked a little unsure of herself, but seemed more confident than she had done before.  

“You... you can just ask me how I died; you don’t have to find out behind my back.” she said simply. “But I think you might be able to take a wild guess.”  

“Were you... one of those choir kids? In the rollercoaster accident?”  

Ocean looked down at her shoes quickly, seemingly avoiding eye contact. “Yeah...”  

“Are any of the other kids here? I’d like to talk to them.” Alison smiled warmly.  

Ocean shot her a look, retorting with “why? Wouldn’t you rather talk to your living friend there, who I’m assuming is still trying to find out for himself how I died?”  

“Oh yeah! This is my husband, Mike! Mike, I was right about how she died, it was a rollercoaster.”  

Mike looked up and switched off his phone before stuffing it back into his pocket. “Uh, yeah. It was called The Cyclone and the accident was in 2009. Front axle broke and the cart completely derailed, if that’s, uh, not something she’s already told you.”  

“Thanks,” Alison turned back to look at Ocean. “I want to talk to them because I know how lonely it can get for you guys. I know it’s not exactly... the best situation to be in. Especially somewhere lots of people come and just walk right past you.”  

Ocean smiled a little as she muttered something that Alison didn’t quite catch.  

“What was that?”  

“I said, it’s better than when they walk through you.”  

Alison winced a bit as she laughed. “Oh, yeah! Sucks when that happens...”  

“Yeah. How do you know, you are alive, right?”  

“Yeah, I am! I just live somewhere that’s, um... very haunted.”  

“... How haunted are we talking?”  

“Ni- uh, eight. Used to be nine, until... until quite recently. Oh, unless you count the plague pit? I always forget those guys are down there.”  

“Oh, yeah, that’s... definitely more haunted than here. You win, I guess, haha... And, um, I’m... sorry for your loss?”  

“Thanks, Ocean.”  

Ocean paused, glancing behind her. “Did you, uh... still want me to get the others? Or are you going to wait until the fair opens?”  

“Is it going to open today?”  

“I think so? I mean, the carneys arrived a while ago and set everything up, and I think it’s due around now? If not now, then a few days I suspect. I can normally only tell when the carneys are here when Mischa goes to flip that one guy off for... Some reason? I don't know, he never told us. Something to do with Constance is all I know, but she won't say anything either. Ricky and Noel also start talking about what they’d do if they could be alive again, and I normally just stay away from them unless Jane-” she caught herself, and Alison saw a red blush dust her cheeks. “Sorry! I talk a lot.”  

Alison smiled again, “it’s alright! Hey, me and Mike should probably go soon because the hotel breakfast bar is opening soon and we’re absolutely starving. But I’m coming back as soon as I can, I promise! Even if the fair isn’t opening today, we can just come over here and stand by the fence to talk. Do you want to go find the others and tell them I’m going to be here?”  

Ocean nodded and turned to leave, but paused. “You’re... definitely coming back, right?”  

“I swear on it.”  

“Okay, see you later!” Ocean turned excitedly and ran back into the fairground. Alison knew how lonely she and the other kids must have been without anything to do or anyone to talk to but each other for over a decade.  

“Bye!” Alison watched her go, silently wondering in morbid curiosity whose blood she was covered in. Still, she knew better than to ask.  

“Right, uh... you said something about breakfast?”  

“Yeah, I did. Let’s go!”  

Mike smiled, before saying “looks like you made a new friend then”  

Alison glanced back at the now empty fairground, grinning as she replied “yeah, I guess so.”  

Chapter Text

After breakfast, Alison and Mike made their way to the fairground. When they went through the gates, above which another banner was hung, they immediately noticed the distinct lack of people. Aside from the carneys in charge of the (almost certainly rigged) games and ancient-looking rides, only one or two small groups were visible.  

Near the entrance was the gravitron, a large metal dish which was advertised to spin “so fast, there’s no need for restraints!” Next to that were signs for a shooting gallery and, with a clear strike through it, the Cyclone.  

“Think they’ll be near there?” asked Mike, pointing at the vandalized sign.  

“I don’t know... they probably aren’t massive fans of staying near it, since it killed them.” Alison replied. The pair stopped and Alison saw Ocean rounding the corner, walking backwards as she talked to a small crowd of teens wearing the same uniform as her.  

“-no, no! It’s not that, Noel. Look, she’s here! Hey, Alison!!”  

When Alison subtly waved back with a smile, the other kids’ faces paled. One of them, a girl who appeared to have similar injuries to Ocean (as visible by the identical bloodstain and torn pinafore) seemed absolutely ecstatic, like the only thing stopping her from running over at once was her own disbelief in the situation.   

Next to her stood a taller boy with a cap on his head. His uniform, while a lot less covered in blood, was still torn and almost scruffy looking. He had a gash on the right side of his face and another on his neck, with his right sleeve torn and bloodied, and he looked more surprised than anything else.   

Next to him were two other boys, both with brown hair. One had curly light brown hair and probably seemed the least injured, but still somehow had blood that had seemed to have been splattered across his face. It looked like it had been someone else’s. He was supporting himself on a pair of crutches, one of which was bent slightly out of shape.  

Finally, the other boy with the darker brown hair which he had kept neatly parted in life, stood with his arms crossed. A metal rod could be seen poking through his chest and the left side of his face was grazed, but apart from his deathly pale complexion, he still looked like he could have been alive. He had been the one arguing with Ocean, most likely over the legitimacy of her claim about Alison, but his frown had long since left his face. He smiled at her awkwardly and returned the wave.  

“They’re over there, Mike.” she whispered.  

“Oh, okay. All of them?”  

“All but one, I can only see five. Still, we can go over and say hi.”  

Alison headed over towards the group, closely followed by Mike. The teens looked like none of them knew what to say, all freezing up similarly to how Ocean had done earlier.   

Said girl glanced between her peers and Alison, before taking charge again. She said all of their names while pointing at them, “Alison! This is Constance, Mischa, Ricky and Noel! Guys, this is Alison.”  

Immediately, in a fashion that Alison had come to commonly associate with ghosts, all four of the teens began to talk to her at the same time. After a few seconds, she sighed.  

“Alright, alright! It’s very nice to meet you all, and I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but can you please ask them one at a time?”  

“Can I go first?” the other girl, who Alison knew to be Constance, asked.  

“Sure.”  

“How exactly are you able to see us? We’re all dead! Unless you’re dead too? Oh, that’d be so cool! Not- well, not cool, I mean, it’s just...” she trailed off when Alison began to chuckle quietly. “Sorry...”  

“It’s fine, Constance. I can see you guys because I hit my head a while ago and got so close to death that apparently, I can see ghosts. I really have no idea other than that though.”  

“That makes sense,” said Ricky, shrugging. “I mean, some studies show that patients who had been legally pronounced dead for over a minute experienced hallucinations of something referred to as the other side, sometimes even of people who they knew had died, or didn’t! I mean, some people who were in accidents had dreams about family members or friends saying goodbye before they woke up and found out they were no longer with them.”  

“Yeah, haha” Alison smiled warmly as the boy looked a little sheepish. “Don’t worry about it. None of you have to worry about talking too much, by the way, I know you’ve only had each other for almost fifteen years. It must get boring.”  

“Not really,” said Mischa. Alison wasn’t sure what she had expected him to sound like, but it for some reason hadn’t been a heavy Ukrainian accent. “We can watch the living from here, some even leave things for us.”  

“Oh? Is there like, a memorial for you guys here?” Alison asked.  

“Yeah!” said Constance. “It’s by the entrance to the Cyclone, do you want to come and look?”  

“Sure! Mike, do you-”  

“-want to go and try to win you something? Definitely. You go have fun with the ghost stuff, and I’ll go check out the prizes in the shooting gallery.” he spoke quickly, immediately jogging away shouting an “I love you!” back at Alison, who sighed.  

Mischa laughed, moving to follow Mike.  

“And where are YOU going?” said Noel, accusingly.  

“Just to watch him! Ah, come on, I promise I will not mess up his aim or anything.”  

“I’ll be holding you to that,” responded Noel, heading off in the opposite direction.  

“Wait, what do you mean, mess up his aim?” Alison asked, following Noel and the rest of the teen ghosts.  

“Oh, Mischa can change the trajectory of bullets if he focuses really hard, it’s so cool!” said Ricky, enthusiastically.  

“That’s going to be useful if anyone breaks in here with a gun, then.”  

“Not really, he just uses it to make sure no-one beats his high score in the shooting gallery,” said Ocean.  

“That’s not the only thing!” responded Constance. “He told me never to tell anyone this, but sometimes he helps little kids win prizes with it.”  

“Aww, that’s nice of him!”  

“And precisely the reason he didn’t want anyone to know, so don’t tell him I told you, else he’ll probably get mad at me.”  

“Ok.”  

The group walked on in silence for a while, past the old Ferris wheel, bumper cars and a few typical carnival games. When they rounded the corner, Alison and the ghosts stopped. Towering above the rest of the park was the old, rickety rollercoaster. The Cyclone.  

There was only one loop and looking at it filled Alison with a sense of dread. It must have been a long way to fall, she thought, rather morbidly. Her eyes followed the tracks and landed on the ground, where, to her surprise, an upside-down cart still lay. She froze when she saw the position of it, trying not to think about how the accident must have happened.  

By the abandoned ticket booth, and before the long queue lines, was a wooden board. Painted on it were the words “for our six saints, may they rest in peace forevermore”. Beneath that, laid around it, were some brightly painted pebbles. Some had colorful dots, others had crude children’s drawings of six stick figures all holding hands, a few even had the Cyclone itself. Placed delicately above these were six bouquets of flowers, which had begun to wilt, suggesting they had been placed only a few days prior.  

When she approached the memorial to have a closer look, Alison noticed that words had been scrawled on the glass panel at the front of the ticket booth. Most were threats and obscenities, almost definitely directed at the person who had controlled the rollercoaster on that fateful day 14 years ago, but a few were messages of hope. Noel came to stand beside her as she read them, but stopped as his voice took over. After a while, he paused, pointing at one message in particular.  

“I know what you did to her, you bastard.” he said, pondering. “We still don’t know what that one means. Well, we think Mischa and Constance do, but no-one really talks about it here. That’s the only one that we didn’t notice anyone writing. See how it’s much more recent than the others?”  

“Yeah,” Alison said thoughtfully.  

“Do you have any idea what it could mean? Ocean said there were loads of newspaper articles published, but only a few were ever left here so we didn’t get to read many, and Ocean, Constance and Jane won’t tell us anything that happened to them that day. I have my theories, but none of them are exactly... nice.”  

“No, I... I’m sorry, I was in college in England when the accident happened, I only really heard about it in passing.”  

“Wait, we made international news?” shouted Constance, who hurried over. “You don’t think that... she could have heard?”  

“What? What do you- oh my god. Wait, she might have done!” Ricky exclaimed.  

“Who? Who might have heard?” asked Alison.  

“Talia!” yelled Constance. “I’ll go tell Mischa.”  

“That’s a good idea, yeah, go tell him!”  

“I’m sorry,” interrupted Alison. “What are you guys talking about? Who’s Talia?”  

“Talia was Mischa’s fiancée apparently. None of us thought she was real before, but he still has his phone, so he showed us their messages. And there were a lot of messages, mostly in Ukrainian. But he was trying to get better at English, and she was teaching him sometimes, so there were a few that we could actually understand.” Noel explained.  

“Oh, didn’t she come here to visit the memorial?”  

“She lives in Kyiv, so she couldn’t get here. We never even found out if she knew we died.” Ricky said, sadly.  

“Yeah, Mischa got upset when he realized she must think he was ghosting her. Which is... ironic, to say the least.” Noel said with a slight smile at the realization of his accidental pun.  

“I can try and find out if she’s still around if you’d like? I mean, I can’t promise anything, but I can definitely try.”  

Noel smiled, though it didn’t seem truly happy, like he was forcing it. “I’m sure he’d love that.”  

Suddenly, a gentle voice came from beyond the queue, originating from somewhere within the wreckage of the accident. Someone was singing, and the members of the choir present immediately quietened down. The voice seemed to echo across the fairground, even though the volume was reasonably low, and Alison wasn’t sure exactly whose it was. She glanced at the ghosts, all of whom were still silent, just taking in the haunting melody.  

Then, someone stepped out from behind one of the supports. A girl with light blonde hair, styled in a way that reminded Alison of a porcelain doll. Her lace blouse and pinafore, which matched the ones Ocean and Constance wore, were streaked with blood, which seemed to have trickled down her body from her neck. She continued singing, and Alison only just remembered to take in the words.  

“I know this dream of life is never ending,  

“It goes around and round and round again.  

“You know the sun is rising while descending,  

“It goes on and on and never ends.”  

After the song had ended, she stopped moving entirely, seemingly frozen in place, and the other ghosts remained quiet.  

Eventually Ocean whispered “that’s Jane Doe.”  

Alison gave her a confused look before quietly responding, “isn’t that what they call unidentified bodies?”  

The silence from the three ghosts standing around her gave her the answer.  

None of them knew who Jane was.  

Chapter Text

Jane remained frozen in place, like someone had glued her joints in their place. Alison looked at Ocean, and then back at the girl stood in the wreckage.  

“Can you.. uh.. go and get her? I don’t think I’m allowed to go in there.”  

Ocean nodded silently, making her way towards Jane.  

“What… what happened to her?” Alison asked.  

Noel sighed. “She was decapitated a long time before we hit the ground, she was dead before the rest of us. That’s why Ricky’s covered in so much blood even though it isn’t his. He was sat next to her.”  

“… oh. So, they…”  

“…have no idea who she was.” Ricky finished. “None of us remember her name either. All I remember is that she joined the choir that day, and she didn’t speak much. Nobody introduced her to us either so we don’t even know her first name.”  

Over in the wreckage, Ocean had gone over to stand with Jane, gently placing a hand on her arm. The girl moved her head suddenly, turning to face her. Ocean spoke quietly to her, so quietly that Alison had no idea what she was saying.   

Then, slowly, she turned around, and her face became visible. Her head tilted slowly, almost inquisitively, and her eyes-  

Did she even have eyes?  

Where her eyes should have been were two black pits that still somehow seemed to stare at Alison. Jane said something, but all Alison heard was a faint murmur. Something about this girl unsettled her deeply. She felt so familiar, yet Alison knew she had never seen her before.  

“Are you okay?” Noel asked, noticing her expression.  

“Uh, yeah.” Something about being directly talked to shook Alison out of it. Suddenly, everything she had felt before faded as quickly as it had arrived, and she remembered to blink.  

Ocean took the girl’s hand and walked with her over towards Alison. Held in Jane’s other hand was a porcelain doll that was missing its head, which for some reason, was the thing about her that made the most sense. At least it explained why her face and movements matched those of a doll so much.  

The two girls walked straight through the queue lines and stopped next to the ticket booth, just a few feet away from where Alison was standing.  

“Alison, this is Jane. Jane, Alison.”  

“Hello Alison.” Jane’s voice was quiet, yet still seemed to have a slight amount of echo to it.  

“Hi..” she said, slightly awkwardly.  

“Do you want to brush my dolly’s hair?” said Jane, holding out the headless doll towards Alison.  

“Uh... I, um. I don’t think I can, exactly... she, uh, doesn’t really...” as Alison spoke, Jane withdrew the doll, and tilted her head to the side slightly, a look of confusion on her pale face. “Um, nevermind. Thanks for offering though.”  

“Ok.” Jane paused for a second, before saying, “why did you come here?”  

Alison could tell from her voice that the girl hadn’t intended to come across as rude, but the question caught her a little off guard.  

“Uh, to Uranium, or to the fair?”  

“... either.”  

“Well, I won a most-expenses paid trip to Canada for a month-”  

“A MONTH?!” exclaimed Ocean, Noel and Ricky.  

“Yeah, a month!”  

“Oh my god! You mean you’re not going to leave for another whole month???” Ocean sounded shocked.  

“I mean, yeah. My house is really stressful to stay in at the moment, because part of it burned down recently and the other ghosts and everything else has just been piling up, it’s just not great. Me and Mike honestly jumped at the chance to get away from it all.”  

“Wait, what other ghosts?” Noel asked.  

“Oh yeah, my house is extremely haunted, haha. Turns out a lot of people died there in the past.”  

“How many are there? And don’t just make a Harry Potter reference.” Ricky laughed as he said that.  

“Well, there are eight main ones...” Alison started, her, Noel and Ricky beginning to walk off back the way they had come, leaving Ocean and Jane alone again. Jane watched them go, not saying anything.  

Ocean put one hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face her.  

“Are you okay?” she asked, watching the ginger’s smile falter ever so slightly.  

“Yeah, just... it’s nothing.”  

Jane blinked; expression unreadable. She took Ocean’s hand back into hers, before turning back to watch the others walking away.  

“It doesn’t have to be just nothing. You know you can talk to me, right? I might not understand, but I can always listen”  

Ocean nodded silently, before the two headed back up and through the supports of the Cyclone.  

A little while later, a woman in her mid-fifties, closely followed by a teenage boy, about the same age as the choir had been, walked over to the memorial with six bouquets of white roses. Each had a name on their label, except for one, addressed to “our sixth saint”.  

“Mom, d’you think we should keep coming here? This place freaks me out.”  

“Come on, Morgan,” the woman said, laying down one of the bouquets. “I know the rest of their parents moved away, well, the ones who knew at least. Heaven only knows what happened to that poor girl’s family, if she even had one. We’re the only ones who can do this now, since your father passed. Besides, it’s the least your sister and her friends deserve.”  

“I guess. I don’t get why I need to come with you every time though, I don’t even remember her. I was three when she died.”  

“I know you were, sweetheart.” The woman laid down the rest of the flowers one bouquet at a time, before collecting the wilted ones, standing up and putting one hand on her son’s back. “There. What flowers should we get for Connie next time?”  

The pair began walking back around towards the exit, talking about whether they would be able to get a rainbow bouquet of if they’d have to make one themselves, at Morgan’s request.  

The boy turned around just before he and his mother rounded the corner, glancing back at the memorial with a faint smile.  

“See you next week, sis.”  

Chapter Text

“So, okay... there are eight ghosts in your house? And a plague pit in your basement?” Ricky sounded mildly shocked. 

Alison smiled. It had been so long since she had been able to talk to a new person about the ghosts, in fact, she had only ever been able to properly tell Mike. It was nice, and in a way, almost refreshing. 

“Yep, there’s Kitty, Pat, the Captain, Julian, Robin, Fanny and Thomas.” She had been counting on her fingers and paused for a moment trying to figure out who she had forgotten, before exclaiming “and Humphrey! God, how do I always forget Humphrey...” 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” began Noel, “how did each of them die? I mean, I figured it wasn’t all at once like with us, right?” 

“Yeah, they’re all from different eras throughout history, it’s really cool to get to talk to them all. They’re all really... interesting to hang out with, I guess. And..” she trailed off, noticing two people round the corner from where she had just come. 

One of them was a woman, who had dark but greying hair tied back in a low bun, and the other a teenage boy, who was much taller and looked around the same age as the choir kids. The woman was holding something in her hands, and when she got closer, Alison realised what it was. 

The flowers from the kids’ memorial. 

After a quick glance at Noel, who opened his mouth to speak and then closed it quickly, she started walking towards them. 

“Hey! Uh, excuse me, what are you doing with those flowers?” 

The woman looked surprised, before laughing somewhat awkwardly. “Oh, I just changed these! I come here every week while the fair is open to leave them over at the memorial. Have you been to see it?” 

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I just came from over there. Did you, um... did you know any of the kids? The ones involved in the accident, I mean. If you’re alright with talking about it, I mean. Uh, my name’s Alison, by the way.” 

“Caroline, and this is my son Morgan. Yes, I did know them. My daughter, Constance, was in the accident. The other kids were her friends. They were all in the school choir together. Even that other girl, I reckon.” Caroline had a sad sort of look on her face, but her smile never faltered. The sadness mostly just remained in her eyes, which sort of amazed Alison. 

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” 

“Thank you, Alison. You know, I’d love to stay and chat, but I really have to go open the café now! You’re welcome to come over for a chat any time you want, though! It’s the Blackwood café on main street, we’re open until 5 later. I’d love to talk a little more about my Connie and her friends, bless their souls.” 

“Yeah, that sounds amazing, thank you so much, and uh... Sorry for prying about the flowers” 

Caroline chuckled, responding “that’s alright, dear. I know you were just looking out for them. Come on then, Morgan.” 

Morgan, who had mostly just been staring at the looming structure of the Cyclone over his shoulder, gave Alison an awkward smile as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and moved past her, traipsing after his mother out of the fairground. 

Noel and Ricky walked over to Alison, who smiled. “Yeah, you could have asked us who she was.” stated Ricky. 

“Well, I know that now” replied Alison, “there was just a chance that you guys have never seen her before, and she was just stealing the flowers.” 

“Do you want to go see which flowers she’s left for us this time?” Noel asked Ricky. “After all, that’s pretty much the only bit of excitement we get around here anymore.” 

“Sure. Alison, do you know how to get to the shooting gallery?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll just follow the signs, haha.” 

“’kay, see you later!” Ricky and Noel began walking back towards the Cyclone, and Alison set off to find Mike. 

When Constance approached the shooting gallery, she noticed two things. One being the person she had come to find, Mischa, holding his arms out with a concentrated look on his face, and the other being a small, steadily-growing pile of stuffed animals by the man, Mike’s, feet. She went over and stood beside Mischa, watching him work. 

“So,” she asked, “How much of that did you help him with?” 

“Most of it. This guy’s ok, I guess. Not a great shot, but hit’s the target pretty much every time. Makes my job easier.” stated Mischa calmly. This was followed by two shots, both of which landed exactly where Mike was aiming. The Ukrainian boy smiled slightly as Mike chose another prize, presumably to give to Alison. 

“I think it’s really nice of you. I mean, letting people win every time even when they weren’t going to. Why do you do it so much?” 

Mischa shrugged. “Most of you Canadians are terrible shots. Have no practice, no, uh... technique. 

Constance smiled, entirely sure that wasn’t the only reason. Mischa didn’t know that she had been watching him all those years ago, but she had. 

A man had been there with a younger woman, who she assumed to be his girlfriend, and Mischa had overheard him yelling at her. So, when he had paid for his turn at the shooting gallery, the boy had been standing to watch. The man missed every single shot, and even though he didn’t seem to have actually done anything to the man or the gun, Mischa had had this look of concentration on his face the whole time. After he had run out of bullets, the man threw the gun down and walked away, annoyed. Constance had watched Mischa follow him, before muttering something in Ukrainian, and turning to head back towards their usual meeting place. 

She hadn’t pried, or even asked about it in any way, but it was clear that Mischa had wanted to keep it a secret for as long as possible. She only started to talk about it with the others when Mischa eventually came clean about it himself, along with Ocean and her own ghostly ability. 

After another three prizes had been awarded to Mike for his seemingly miraculous skill for a beginner, he had been kicked out of the attraction by the carney. Something about having won half of the prizes and needing to leave some for everyone else. So, he was just gathering his bundle of 11 various toys and games when Alison arrived. 

“Oh. My God. Mike, how on earth did you get so many? I thought you had next to no experience.” She sounded surprised, and her husband laughed. 

“Yeah, I have no idea! But, look! We’ve got loads of these now. We could give one each to all the ghosts when we get back” 

“If we can fit it all in the luggage, that is.” 

He paused. “Ah, yeah... didn’t think about that. Not much space for any other souvenirs now is there...” 

“No, not really.” Alison said, noticing something sticking out of the pile. It was a doll made of porcelain. She had her blonde hair in cute little ringlets and pale skin, which had a faint dust of pink blush on the cheeks. Her ruby lips were curved slightly into what was almost a smile, and Alison reached forwards to take her out from the rest of the prizes. 

“Oh my god, mike, this one looks almost exactly like one of the kids.” 

“Really? Which one? Was it the girl you spoke to earlier... Ocean?” 

“No, her name’s Jane. Well, it probably wasn’t Jane, actually. They couldn’t... they didn’t know who she was, and she doesn’t really remember either. She’s literally a Jane Doe.” 

“Oh, her! Wait, wasn’t she decapitated? Wouldn't that mean she’d be like Humphrey? With, uh, no head?” 

The two began walking, with Alison clutching the doll in her hands, feeling the lace fabric of her tiny blue dress. 

“She was. But she’s holding a doll, just like this one. Except... it doesn’t have a head. But she does have one? And, it looks exactly like the doll’s one, but she doesn’t really have eyes either? I don’t know. I think, somehow, she has the doll’s head instead of her own. Which means... I have no clue what she looked like when she was alive.” 

“Ah, okay. That’s... freaky. So, uh, what should we do now then?” 

“I... don’t know. I’d like to have a talk with all of the kids, see what, if anything, they’d like me to do for them. Maybe I could go to Constance’s mum’s café later. She seemed really nice.” 

“Wait, whose mum?” 

“Oh! One of the kids, Constance. Ran into her mum earlier, she came here with her son to replace the flowers at the memorial by the Cyclone.” 

“Cool. Yeah, I’m definitely not opposed to going to a café, I think that’s a good idea. Right... do we spend the rest of the morning here, go over to the hotel to drop these toys off, and go to the café on our way back here?” 

“Good plan. Hey, should I ask Constance and Mischa if they want to come with us?” 

“Oh, they’re here?” Mike turned around, expecting to see the two ghosts who were still chatting in the corner by the shooting gallery, before remembering that he wasn’t going to be able to. 

“Yeah, two of them are anyway. The rest of them are over by the rollercoaster as far as I know.” Alison paused, trying to decide whether to tell Mike that it wasn’t just beginners’ luck that got him so many prizes back there, but she thought that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. He did seem really proud of himself, after all. 

Alison nodded and waved over to Constance and Mischa to get their attention, prompting some bemused looks by the carney. 

The two began to make their way over, still deep in conversation, right up until they reached them. 

“Right, do you guys want to meet over by the Cyclone so we can talk about stuff after lunch? Me and Mike are going to go over to your mum’s café, Constance.” 

The girl looked surprised at that. “Wait, how did you know my mom owns a café? Did someone tell you?” 

“Yeah,” Alison said, “She did. She came by earlier with you brother to drop off some flowers.” 

“She’s here? Where is she?” Constance looked hopeful for a moment, but her face quickly fell. “She’s already left, hasn't she...” 

“I think so, yeah. But like I said, I’m going to go over there for a bit, just to have a chat. She seemed really excited that I wanted to know more about you. Do you want me to ask them anything in particular?” 

Constance paused. “Can you ask how my dad’s doing? A while ago she came over here and mentioned about going into the hospital to see him, but she hasn’t mentioned him since. I mean, it might just be because nothing happened to him, but... still. Could you...?” 

Alison nodded. “Of course I could.” 

“Thank you. Oh, and if you see Morgan, could you ask what kind of music he likes? I want to know if he still likes ABBA as much as he used to.” she chuckled at that. 

The four of them kept walking, with Mike struggling slightly to keep a hold of all the stuffed animals, and Mischa trailing behind, attempting to scuff his shoes in the mud. He sped up a bit as he remembered he wasn’t going to have any impact over his surroundings, instead stuffing his hands in his pockets and trudging along behind the rest of the group. 

A breeze blew through the supports of the Cyclone, and just outside the entrance of the fairground, a young man got out of a car. He took a small black device out of his pocket and pressed a button on it, before speaking. 

“Okay, this is it. This is the place.” 

Chapter Text

The fair itself, which Alison hadn’t really been paying attention to for most of the morning, was... mediocre at best. The games were rigged, and she didn’t feel as though she could particularly trust any of the rides. Still, she went on the Ferris wheel with Mike, and had a great time on the bumper cars. 

They left a little early for lunch as they knew they would have to leave Mike’s shooting gallery bounty in the hotel room. Alison could tell he was slightly beginning to regret his decision to keep having turns on the attraction, but he wasn’t going to back down, so she just let it go. 

When they got to the room, Alison stared at the doll in her hands again. She couldn’t explain why, but just the thought of leaving the doll there alone made her feel sad. Mike, on the other hand, had no problem with throwing the pile of pink fluffy teddy bears and rainbow-maned unicorn pillows down onto the bed. He looked up at his wife, still transfixed on the doll. 

“Are you okay?” he asked her, and she blinked quickly a few times before replying. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just zoned out a bit. Um, is it alright if I take this with me? I kinda... don’t want to just leave it here.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine.” he pulled out his phone to check the time. “Right, we should probably get going if we want to beat the lunch rush. Do we know where this place is?” 

“Yeah, she said it’s on main street.” 

“Okay, when you said main street, I'll be honest, I wasn’t expecting... this.” 

The buildings that lined the edges of the street were run-down and old, complete with chipped paint on their signs hanging outside. The whole place looked like a ghost town. After scanning the signs outside, which read things like “Billy’s Hardware Store” and “Uranium Grocery Store”, Alison’s eyes landed on one that said “The Blackwood Café”, and then in smaller print under it “serving the town since 1952”. 

“Found it” she said, beginning to walk towards it, still clutching the doll in both hands. It reminded her of the way Jane had held her own version once Ocean had let go of her hand earlier, and she shuddered slightly. 

“You okay?” Mike asked, noticing her shiver. 

“Yeah, it’s just really cold still.” 

“Good point.” 

The bell above the door rung sweetly as Alison opened it, and she was greeted with a rush of warm air and the pleasant smell of coffee. There was only one person in the café, and that was the woman stood behind the counter. 

“Ah! Alison, hello!” greeted Caroline, cheerfully. She was wearing the same thing she had been earlier, except now the outfit was paired with a navy blue and white striped apron with the café's logo embroidered into the top corner. 

“Hi, Caroline! This is my husband, Mike. Mike, this is Caroline.” 

“Hi,” he said with a small wave. 

“Well, it’s good to see you both. Come in! It’s freezing out there.” 

Mike and Alison chose a small table by the window with four seats and took off their coats, hanging them on the backs of their chairs before sitting down. Caroline came out from behind the counter and handed both of them menus to look through. 

“Have a look at those. Now, you wanted to ask about Constance?” 

“If that’s okay?” said Alison quietly. 

“Of course it is,” replied Caroline, sitting in one of the seats opposite them. “Any questions in particular?” 

“What was she like?” 

Caroline smiled sweetly. “Connie was such a sweet girl, really. Kind to everyone, even if they were bad towards her. She saw the best in everyone, except for herself. She was so smart, and so good in school, I don’t think I ever got called by the school staff the whole time she was at St Cassian’s, apart from one time she had to come home sick. That day, all her friends came over after choir to check on her, bless them. That was the first time I met that Ukrainian boy, Mischa. She would talk about choir all the time, she loved it. She had such a beautiful voice.” He expression softened, thinking fondly of the memories of her daughter. 

“You must really miss her,” said Mike. 

“Only every day. But still! There’s no reason to dwell on the sad bits. My daughter lived a happy life, and I just know that if there’s such a place as heaven, she’s there now. That’s what she deserves, really. Paradise.” 

Alison stayed silent, not wanting to tell Caroline that her daughter was not in fact in heaven, but rather trapped in the very place she died. Still, that would somewhat ruin things. She instead opted to ask “what about the rest of the choir? What were they like?” 

“Well, her best friend since pre-k, Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg, was pretty high achieving. She wasn’t always that nice to people, but I could tell her heart was in the right place. Her parents were awfully strict on her when it came to her education, the poor girl never really had much time for hanging out with her friends outside of school. Not that I’m convinced she had many friends besides Constance...” she trailed off. “Not to speak ill of the departed, of course! She was a very clever girl. Very resilient.” 

“Was she the one with the long hair? I mean- I, uh, saw a picture in one of the news articles.” 

“Yes, she was. Ginger, always had a headband of some kind to keep it out of her face, but she never tied it back. Said that was because she didn’t want to get it messed up. Hey, I could go up to Connie’s room and grab a picture of the choir if you’d like. There’s one that was taken just after Mischa joined. She kept it in a frame on her desk, it’s still there in fact.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah! Sure, thanks. We’ll have a look at the menus while you’re gone.” 

“Alright, I won’t be a moment.” 

Caroline got up and left the café through the door in the back, and Alison and Mike were alone again. 

“She seems nice, I get what you mean now.” said Mike. “It’s cool to be sort of involved in ghost stuff this time and have someone that knew them while they were alive tell us about them.” 

“Yeah... I just realised I never had that with the other ghosts except for Pat. Why are the ones who are still alive always called Carol...” 

Mike paused for a moment to connect the dots, and then laughed. “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence, right? It’s not some kind of weird conspiracy, like... attack of the Carols or something.” 

“Haha, yeah. Both of them seem really nice though, and I can tell she cared a lot about the kids. Not just Constance.” 

Just then, Caroline came back into the main room, and Alison flicked her eyes to look down at the menu. Luckily, she was good at making decisions quickly, and ordered a latte. 

“Uh, what’s an... affogato?” Mike asked. 

Caroline set the picture frame down on the table. “Oh, that’s espresso and ice cream, it’s quite nice if I may say so myself.” 

“Oh, okay. Can I have that then please?” 

“Sure. You can look at the photo while I start making your drinks.” 

The photograph was in colour, contrary to the newspaper articles, which Alison had only seen in black and white. It was strange seeing the kids with such bright, genuine smiles on their faces, and not completely covered in blood and various injuries. Ocean and Constance were stood at the front, with Noel, Ricky and Mischa at the back. All five of them were smiling, even Mischa (albeit slightly). The picture of them had felt more alive than any of them looked now; it was a snapshot of their lives, bright and full of joy, while now, they were merely copies of how they were in death. 

Alison said something after a moment of silence staring at the photo. “Who's this one at the back?” she asked, pointing at Ricky. In the picture, he was leaning against a pair of crutches, and his smile was somewhat faint. 

“That’s Richard Potts. His friends all called him Ricky. Now, let’s see... he didn’t come round often, but when he did, he always spoke using sign language. Constance learned it to help him communicate with everyone, she was sort of like an interpreter. I think Noel and Ocean knew sign as well, or at least, they could understand him. He wasn’t deaf, but he still couldn’t speak. Most choir performances, he was stood at the side signing along with the words. My deaf friend, Millie, always appreciated that. She’d talk to him sometimes after performances, so fast that Constance and Millie’s interpreter sometimes had trouble keeping up! He was a very kind boy, absolutely loved learning about space. It was sad, really, what was happening to him.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He had a degenerative disease of some sort; I don’t remember the name. Poor boy. That’s the reason he couldn’t walk or talk. The doctors all said he wasn’t ever going to get much older than twenty. His parents were relieved, in a way. They wouldn’t have to watch their son suffer any more.” her voice was melancholy, and she spoke softly, as though the boy she was talking about was in the next room sleeping. 

“Oh...” 

“It made organising the funeral that little bit easier, in a way, too. They had set aside a small fund that they were going to use, and they had talked about it with him beforehand. It was beautiful, really. Everything at the wake was space themed, and everyone there was given a little space rocket pin badge to wear. I know he would have loved it.” 

The café fell silent for a moment, and Alison glanced at the doll again. She figured she should try and change the subject back to something more positive. 

“Yeah... I think he would have done. Uh, who’s this? The one in the hat.” 

“That’s Mischa. Mischa... Bachinski, I think. The Ukrainian one. A bit of a wildcard, apparently. Only got into the choir as a punishment of sorts. He stole three boxes of communion wine from the choir conductor, who decided that he just needed an outlet of sorts. I didn’t know if I wanted Connie to be around a boy like that, but she always said never to judge a book by its cover. She said he was nice deep down, but I didn’t believe her until he came over that day when she had the flu. He was so polite to me when he asked to see her, and I could tell he cared so much about her. I wish I had been able to get to know him a little more, he seemed like such a nice boy.” 

“Oh, cool. Yeah, he seems... strong, I guess, is mostly what I’m getting from the picture.” said Alison. 

Caroline laughed. “Yes, I don’t doubt he was. After all, you must have at least a little muscle on you to run with three boxes of wine!” She brought their drinks over and placed them in front of Mike and Alison. 

“Is the last one Noel?” Mike asked. 

“Yes, how did you know?” 

“Well, I saw in an article that his mum tried to sue the fair after the accident, and he’s the only one you haven’t mentioned yet, so...” 

“Ah, yes. I don’t know how I keep forgetting about that lawsuit. Lydia split the money equally between us parents, and we used some of ours to pay for the funeral. Which was lovely, really kind of her.” Caroline smiled and paused for a while before continuing. “Anyway, Noel. Noel Gruber. He was an... interesting boy. He got suspended in seventh grade for talking about erections during the school play. He even got this other kid in on it, but I don’t think she got in that much trouble. He loved theatre and French things. He especially loved these old black and white French movies; he would recommend they watch one every time the choir came over to stay the night.” 

“Did they have sleepovers here often?” Alison asked. 

“Every other week, at one point. Nearer the end. A few of them didn’t have very good home situations so they quite often came over either here or to stay at one of the others’ houses. Particularly Ocean, and Mischa once he was friends with the rest of the choir. I didn’t understand why anyone would ever want to mistreat either of them, honestly. I mean, I know no child should ever have to go through things like that... ah, no matter. It can’t be helped now, and I doubt he’d want me to tell you if he was still around.” 

“Who?” 

“Mischa,” she said quietly. “His adoptive parents were... less than ideal. And I never did much agree with the O’Connell Rosenberg’s parenting style. I think they were convinced they were helping Ocean, but they were doing more harm to her than good. They were the first to leave after the funerals.” 

“Did all of the parents... leave?” 

“In the end, yes. Most of them couldn’t bear to live so close to where their children died. You know, you can see the Cyclone from pretty much anywhere in town. There aren’t that many tall buildings, after all. It just stays there all year round. It doesn't feel... excellent, to have your child’s death literally looming over you all the time.” 

The café fell silent. Mike picked up his coffee and tasted it quickly before muttering about how he really liked it. 

“Oh, thank you. It’s one of our newest menu items, you know. We don’t get an awful lot of customers here, and most are regulars. So, I like to make sure they enjoy their time as much as possible.” she smiled again. 

“So, um... Caroline, I-” Alison stopped herself when she noticed the woman staring at the doll sat in her lap. 

“Where did you get that?” she asked quietly. 

“Oh, I um... I got it from the fair, Mike won it for me...” 

“That dress, that doll, it looks... familiar. You know, they found a doll at the crash site. It didn’t have a head, and none of the parents recognised it, so police concluded it belonged to... Jane” 

“Oh, yeah. Did you ever meet her?” 

Caroline shook her head. “No, I... I didn’t. The day after the accident, when they called me in to the station to identify Constance... Probably the worst day of my life, that was. Ocean’s parents didn’t show up either, so I had to confirm who she was too, it was awful. She had looked so... peaceful, though. It didn’t look like it was her, what with how quiet she was being. They asked me about the other girl too, but they didn’t show her to me at first. I don’t think they saw any point, what with her... lack of, um... any identifiable features. I asked to see, I think because I wanted something more horrifying to look at than my own daughter’s body, to get that image out of my mind.” 

Alison stayed silent, listening intently to the woman who was still staring at the doll. 

“None of us knew who she could have been. She had never been to any of our houses, none of the choir ever mentioned her to us, she wasn’t even a registered member of the choir to begin with. Wasn’t on any of the records. No pictures or text messages, either. It was like the whole town, the whole world, just... forgot her. I still leave her flowers, though. At her grave when the fair isn’t open for the memorial.” 

Suddenly, the bell above the door rung, indicating someone else had entered the shop. Alison turned around to see a tall young man, somewhere in his twenties, with curly brown hair. He was wearing a long grey coat and gloves, which was sensible given the weather. Caroline stood up as he entered. 

“Ah, Ezra! Welcome back.” 

The man, Ezra, smiled slightly as he moved towards the counter. “Hello, Caroline. It’s good to see you again, could I get an espresso? To go, if that’s alright.” 

“Of course! I’ll get right on that in just a minute.” she made her way back over to Alison and Mike’s table, smiling. “This won’t be a moment!” 

Ezra pulled out his phone and started texting someone, and Caroline started making his coffee. 

“Wow... ok, I've learned a lot today I guess.” said Mike, voice hushed. 

“Yeah, I didn’t know most of that either. I’ve got loads more questions for them when we get back to the fair. For now I’ve just got to figure out a way that doesn’t sound weird to ask her about her family...” 

Chapter Text

Mike and Alison finished their drinks and, once Ezra had picked up his coffee and exited the shop, Caroline walked back over to their table.  

“Sorry about that! Are you two staying for lunch?”  

“Oh, yeah, that was the plan. Could we get some menus please?”  

“Of course.”  

Caroline went over to the counter and grabbed two menus, before handing one each to Alison and Mike and sitting back down on the chair across from them.  

“So,” Alison started, “is it just... you and Morgan here? You said all the other parents moved out...”  

“Yes, they did. It’s been just us two for a few years now.” She sounded sad, and as she spoke, she glanced up at a picture on the wall above the door to the kitchen. It was old, and showed a family of four. One was a man with a thick bushy moustache and greying hair, and a woman, stood beside him and grinning widely, wore an apron similar to the one Caroline herself was wearing. In front of the couple were two young men, who looked around their twenties, both dressed in the same apron as their mother.  

“That picture up there,” she began quietly. “That’s my late husband’s grandfather, the one on the right at the back there. He was the one that opened this café with his wife. It’s been here for as long as the mines. The Blackwoods have been feeding the town for seventy years. He wanted Constance to take over for us once we retired, you know. I don’t think she would have fancied that, though. She used to love living here, in the town I mean. She never said anything to me but I could just tell. I knew she didn’t want this town to be her future. I was going to tell her that it would be okay. That she should be able to go anywhere she wanted. That she could be anything she wanted. I never got the chance.”  

The café went quiet again. This silence was sadder, regretful. Painful. Eventually, and with a slightly lighter tone, Caroline continued.  

“Morgan doesn’t want to either, he’s always been passionate about his art. He likes music, too. He’d never admit it to anyone but he loved his sister. Thought she was amazing. He wasn’t very much fond of his father, though. They always got into arguments while David was still around.”  

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to him?” Alison asked.  

“Three years ago, he had a heart attack. They couldn’t get him stable for a few days at the hospital, so we had to let him go.”  

“Oh, I’m so sorry...”  

“It’s alright. Things aren’t as tense here now as they were before. Morgan has made his plans to leave for college as soon as he gets the chance, and so I’ll have to find others to help with the café. That’s alright, though. All I ever wanted was for my children to be happy, and I can’t do that for Constance, so I’ll do my best for her brother.”  

“Yeah, that... That makes sense. You’re doing what you can. Did... Earlier you said one of the parents filed a lawsuit?”  

“Yes, they did. Found out it broke because of poor maintenance. It was a long-term thing, pure coincidence the cops said. They didn’t really do a whole lot more, mind you. Gave up on the search for that girl’s head too quickly if you ask me.”  

Alison frowned. “How long did they look for it?”  

“A few days before giving up. They didn’t think to give that girl the time of day she deserved. A few months later, though, there were reports of a girl who went missing... around the same age, some people say she might have been the same one, only she couldn’t have been...” Caroline trailed off again, clearly thinking.  

“Do you know anything about her? I mean, if she was around the same age... did they ever find her?”  

“There were rumours of a body found in one of the lakes,” said Caroline, in the sort of hushed voice that often accompanies a ghost story around a campfire late at night. “The never announced anything, though. And yes, I think I did meet her once... actually... gosh, I feel stupid for not mentioning all this sooner. That man who just came in, Ezra? It was his older sister!”  

“Wow, really?!” Alison exclaimed.  

“Small town,” said Mike.  

“Yes! Her name was Penny, only issue with her being our Jane was how she went missing a good few months after the girl’s death. Plus, they might’ve found her body somewhere else, but I’m not sure. We’ve all asked Ezra, but he doesn’t like to talk about his sister much. Poor kid, he was only just a teenager when she disappeared the second time.”  

“The... second time? What happened the first time?”  

“Well, they never released any information about this, but a short while before the accident, there was this massive scandal just outside the town, some hippie commune growing some, uh... illegal substances. A while after that, Penny and her brother got sent to St Cassian, and not long after that, both just disappeared, in the dead of night. They were found a few weeks later, in – get this – America! The two of them hiked across the states on money from goodness only knows where, and when they were found they were brought straight back and put on what was essentially house arrest.”  

Alison and Mike made eye contact, before simultaneously saying “wow.”  

Caroline laughed at their similar reactions and continued talking. “As for what the girl was like, I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you much. She and Ezra came here once, just after they moved in. She had her hair in lovely French braids, I remember. Wasn’t entirely sure how ordering coffee worked, I don’t think anyway. It wasn’t long before the accident, and I never saw her again. Though, Ezra didn’t come back for a while after his sister went missing. After a body was supposedly found. That’s what he said anyway, when I asked about it, but it seemed like... I don’t know. Forget I said anything.”  

“No, I’m curious... What did it seem like?”  

“Like he’d just made it up.”  

Chapter Text

“What do you mean it was like he’d made it up?” Alison asked. Caroline shrugged in response.  

“He seemed so unsure of it, I suppose. Not sure why. Maybe Ezra said they found a body because he didn’t like talking about it? Nobody knows.”  

Alison paused. “Seems like kind of a stretch... Do you have any contact details for him? I’d like to at least try to talk to him.”  

“Ah, fancy yourself a mystery solver, eh?” Caroline chuckled. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you where he lives, and I don’t have his phone number. We don’t see much of him these days, he’s always away on business trips, or at least, that’s what he says they are. I don’t know how true that is, if he really is going away for business reasons. Some say it’s because he’s travelling around the States, trying to find Penny. Nobody can ever know for sure.”  

“Huh... okay. Wait, I think I saw him at the fair earlier!” said Mike suddenly.  

“Wait, you did?”  

“Yeah! He was talking into this box thingy, I think it was a cassette recorder? Dunno why, I couldn’t hear what he was saying either.”  

“Huh... Maybe he’s trying to find out what happened with The Cyclone as well? Or maybe... oh my God” Alison paused, eyes wide.  

Mike looked at her, concerned. “... Uh, what is it?”  

“You know Jane, um.. The one they couldn’t identify?” she suggested.  

Mike thought for a moment, before lighting up. “what if that was Penny?”