“Laverne Green.”
“You hungry, Ms. Green?” Nessa asked. “I made some butter rolls this morning, and if you don’t have some, I’m gonna end up eating the whole batch—and those calories would look a lot better on you than on me.”
“I’d love some,” the woman said hungrily.
In the kitchen, Nessa gathered dishes and silverware. The woman watched her. She didn’t seem to know what to do with herself.
“The detective says you drew the picture that was online.”
“Yes,” Nessa said. “I tried my best. I hope it did her justice.”
The woman retrieved an envelope from her pocketbook and pulled out a Polaroid, leaving several more stacked inside. “Her name was Venus,” she said. “After the goddess—not the tennis star.”
The girl’s hair was styled differently, but it was unmistakably her. She was wearing a ruffled red dress in a style that seemed better suited to another decade.
“You chose the right name for her. She was a beauty. May I see the other pictures?” Nessa asked.
“Of course.” The woman passed her the whole envelope.
The photos showed the girl posing in front of the same mirror in different outfits. Something in one of them caught Nessa’s eye. It was the chain the girl had been wearing when she died. The pendant at the bottom wasn’t a cross as Nessa had imagined. It was a coiled snake crafted from gold.
“That’s a beautiful crucifix she’s wearing,” Nessa said. If the woman was the girl’s real mother, she would know the pendant wasn’t a cross.
“Thank you.” Laverne wiped away a tear. “It was a gift from her grandfather.”
Nessa slipped the picture into the center of the pile and handed the photos back to the woman.
“Venus seemed to love the camera,” Nessa said. “And it sure loved her back.”
“She wanted to be a model,” the woman said. “Like her mama was back in the day. I know I don’t look like much now, but I was on the cover of magazines when I was that age.”
Nessa looked up to find Laverne staring at her. “I believe it,” she said.
“Then Venus’s daddy left me when she was a baby. Said I’d gotten fat. Everything went to hell from there. And now this—”
Back in her nursing days, Nessa had seen far too many parents lose children. Some wailed in anguish, while death struck others silent. Nessa knew grief came in countless varieties. But in her experience, this wasn’t one of them. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
Laverne’s gaze only intensified. Nessa returned to her work, but she could still feel it.
“I just wish I could have taken better care of her. When she ran away three months ago, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. Venus had been making her own money and I told her she needed to start paying rent, but she wanted to spend it on drugs. After that, she just picked up and left.”
“How was she making her own money?” Nessa asked.
Laverne stared down at the butter rolls on the counter. “Men,” she said, leaving it at that. “I told her how dangerous it was. I told her she’d end up dead. But you know girls. I was the same way.”
It was time. Nessa had loaded a tray with the coffee cups and dishes. “Would you mind carrying that plate of butter rolls for me?” she asked.
They took everything to the living room, where Franklin was waiting in a chair.
“Have a seat on the sofa,” Nessa told her guest. She chose the chair next to Franklin’s for herself.
Nessa watched as the woman sat down beside the girl in blue, whose name, Nessa was almost positive, was not Venus Green. The ghost’s head slowly swiveled to get a look at the woman. Then it turned back to face Nessa. Nothing had changed.