The Ghost of Soda Creek. Ann Walsh

she asked. She had always found the twins difficult. Either they both talked at once, loudly, or they both kept silent. Either way, a conversation with them was always a challenge.

      “Yes,” said Trisha.

      “No,” said Tommy.

      “Well, sort of,” they finished together.

      It was quiet for a while, the twins anxiously eyeing David’s progress at the stove, Kelly wondering what crisis had brought the children to her house this time, and how soon she could get rid of them. The silence continued for what seemed like hours, broken only by David’s soft whistling as he flipped pancakes.

      “There you go.” As he set two plates heaped with pancakes in front of them, Trisha caught sight of Kelly’s painting of the little ghost. It had been on the table right in front of the twins ever since they sat down, but they had been too interested in watching David cook pancakes to notice it.