"Maisy, I don't understand why this is bothering you so much." I finger-combed my hair in the theatre's ancient bathroom mirror.

No reply.

I sigh. "So it's silent treatment for the duration of the play?"

The mirror cracks into an intricate spiderweb.

"Really mature, Mais. The theatre doesn't have a lot of money, and now they have to replace the mirror. Or maybe they'll think I did it, since Barbara knows it was okay when she left."

A cold hand squeezes my shoulder.

"Just tell me what's wrong so we can get past it."

My sister slowly materialises beside me. Her long hair is hiding her face. She's scratching at the stained porcelain of the old sink.

"I just wish I could be in the play too. You know Something Wicked This Way Comes is my all-time favourite Bradbury."

The many broken reflections of me in the fractured mirror give her a small smile. I don't even notice the shiver or goosebumps I get from the frigid temperature of her hand when I place mine through hers on the sink edge.

"Mais, I'd give you my role in a heartbeat. You know that."

She shrugs but still won't look at me. "I wish I could be part of the action for real, not sit on the sidelines anymore. It's hard having to stand by and watch you have all the fun. It's not fair!"

I give her a sympathetic smile. "I'd give pretty much anything to change you into a living, breathing person, but being jealous isn't going to change the fact that you're not."

Ethereal tears run down her face, evaporating into wisps as they drip off her chin.

My eyes trace the pattern of the glass shards before me.

"Maybe there is something you can do," I say.

Maisy glances at me and perks up at the idea forming in my eyes.

The old Baroque-style theatre is almost two hundred years old. It's amazing the dark, drafty place isn't really haunted, but Maisy hasn't encountered another ghost here.

I nod my head, thinking. "The play opens on Halloween, so why don't we start a rumour that the theatre is haunted? You could float stuff through the air, move things around, stuff like that. People have already commented about cold drafts. But nothing too major. We don't want to scare people away."

"No, just pique their interest to make them want to come in hopes they'll see something too. Which they will," Maisy continues.

Devious smiles curl our identical lips at the same time. "It's perfect," we say in unison.

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