**1. Full Moon**

Lainey dreamt of a woman who smiled without lips.

It looked as though something had sunk its teeth into this woman’s lips and ripped them off, taking chunks of muscle with it. the bottom of her skull was half visible, amid the detritus still clinging to bone.

When she smiled, her skull began to crack as the teeth were slowly forced into a mocking reflection of a grin. The corners of her eyes creased, and her tongue lolled out of what used to be her cheek.

The woman reached out a soft hand to brush her fingers against Lainey’s mouth.

And Lainey realized she was smiling back.

When she woke up, it was nighttime.

It took under a minute for Lainey to pull on a sweater and some shoes and burst out into the clear night sky. The cool breeze brushed against her clammy skin.

The moon was out and full, bright and floating silently over the lake. The waves were speckled with white light— the reflection of a reflection from wherever the sun hid beyond the horizon.

When Lainey was in University, she used to make fun of McDonaugh County.

Her friends had all been worldly in a way she wasn’t, so she made up for it with quirky small town stories about bad politics, superstition, and rural isolation.

But once she was back, the derision peeled off of her like a scab, leaving her raw and unprotected against the reality of the place. It was beautiful here, but if you opened yourself up to that beauty, there was something deep and terrifying that could crawl inside of you and hold you tight.

Whether that was a stranglehold or a loving hug depended on your point of view.

When it was a full moon you could see the other shore. It was a strip of abstracted brown and green that stretched along the curve of the earth, as distant as anything else from the big, wide world.

Lainey’s dreams were getting worse. They had started when she first moved back, but she had shrugged them off at the time. Now, three years later, they were vivid and constant, always lurking in her subconscious.

And yet, for some reason she couldn’t understand, Lainey didn’t want them to go away.

——————-

**2. Waning Gibbous**

The moon was out early, showing almost its full self, missing nothing more than a sliver.

Lainey was still working on the O’Grady’s tractor. It had a software glitch — at times, for reasons as of yet unknown, the vehicle would begin a restart cycle. It would turn off, then on, then off, then on, leaving the damned thing useless. The O’Gradys would then call Lainey over to tinker with it until it was fixed, though the fix itself was also mysterious — a job Lainey did without knowing how.

“I baked you and your father a nice pair of pies.”

Pamela O’Grady stood in front of the tractor, a sweet smile on her face and a stacked pair of Tupperware in her hands.

Lainey stood up, wiping her hands on a nearby rag. “You spoil us like this, but still won’t let me order the off-brand parts that’ll fix your tractor permanently.”

Pamela shook her head in disapproval. “The manual says it’ll void our warranty.”

“Your warranty isn’t doing you much good right now, ma’am, since they don’t send repairmen out here to fix their mess.”

Pamela smiled, almost as if she pitied Lainey.

Ella had always thought that Mrs. O’Grady was a witch, though Lainey never understood why. Pamela owned more crucifixes than the Catholic Church, and decorated her house with muted pastels and textile crafts.

Mrs. O’Grady didn’t look much like a witch; she seemed younger than her 65 years, and had straight blond hair and eyes a blue as dark as the lake. Ella said the devil was in her smile.

It was a smile Lainey usually found soft and welcoming, but in that moment, as Pamela fixed her with a sympathetic gaze, Lainey felt a chill.

“Rules are rules, dear,” Pamela said. “Everything has its place.”

Lainey shrugged. If they kept paying her to fix it, it was none of her business.

———————

**3 Last Quarter**

The half-moon always looked the silliest, in Lainey’s opinion. Like it had been clumsily chopped in half with the wrong type of knife.

She sat on the deck with her father, eating the last of the O’Grady pie.

When they finished, she picked up her plate and her father’s, and turned to enter the house.

On the other side of the sliding glass doors, a lipless face stared back.

Lainey dropped the plates.

Her father jumped to his feet in alarm.

“Lainey, what—“

The person was already gone.

Her father was talking.

He was moving her away from the broken glass, like she was a child who might unwittingly get some stuck in her skin.

She stared and stared and stared. But the ghost didn’t come back.

——————

**4 Waning Crescent**

Lainey felt as though she were being followed.

It was breath on the back of her neck, and a figure standing in a field, caught briefly in Lainey’s truck mirror.

She was working on a combine that day. She tried to distract herself with the engine.

She had always loved machines. She loved their repetitive nature. That they did the same thing over and over again, but still, within reason. They would wear themselves out and fall apart, and you had to diagnose them to keep them running. But you could see how time worked, and understand what went wrong.

Ella had always been the more superstitious one, in spite of her more modern spirit. She had believed in ghosts with her whole heart, though insisted she would never be one. She intended to live her life to the fullest. To live no regrets.

She said their mom had been that way too. She said their mom wouldn’t stick around this boring old plane.

On her way home, Lainey once again looked in the rearview mirror.

Once again, the lipless face stared back.

——————

**5 New Moon**

It was a new moon, and the darkness was thick air pressing in, the blackness seeping into Lainey’s lungs with every breath.

This place was bigger, in the dark.

Lainey didn’t know if she was dreaming. The waves crashed against the shore. Insects buzzed in discordant ecstasy. She looked at the ghost and the ghost looked back.

Her skull remained exposed, up to the underside of her nose. Some jaw muscle was still peeling off. Her hair was long and brown and damp.

The woman was lit from within. It wasn’t a holy light, or a pleasant glow. Instead, it looked as though dozens of fireflies were crawling under her translucent skin.

Lainey didn’t want to name the woman. To do so would be to give in to something she’s fought for so long.

But to avoid it was to be empty. Because the night was slowly swallowing everything else, until nothing was left except her and the ghost.

——————

**6 Waxing Crescent**

The ghost stayed with her, now. It slipped its clammy hand in hers as they walked across farmland, fixing whatever was broke. It sat, silent, in the backseat of her truck.

Once or twice, Lainey tried to speak to it.

“What are you?” Lainey asked it once.

It plunged its fingers into her eyes.

Those fingers slid into her brain.

She saw a massive, mangy mutt with viscera clamped between its teeth.

She saw soft pink blankets stained with splatters of blood.

She felt the rush of water into her lungs, and felt the life leave her body.

“Do you think Ella’s in Paris?”

It was meant to be a simple question. It was meant to make it easier to talk about this disappearing woman who dominated their lives.

But like a sickle-shaped moon, it cut their night short. Her father had no interest in answering such baseless, speculative questions.

——————

**7 First Quarter**

The butchered half-moon offered a teaspoon of light, forcing the porch lamps to brighten the inside of Lainey’s junker.

Lainey was tired, having stood up again and again, whipping her head around trying to catch the shadow that kept dancing in the corner of her eye.

She was already worked up when Tom O’Grady stopped by.

It was late to be out doing errands, and Lainey suspected that Tom had a case of beer in the car that he hoped he could sneak past Lainey’s disapproving glare.

“Where’s your father?” he asked, and Lainey felt another stab of guilt.

“Been sleeping,” she said.

“Already?”

Lainey hesitated.

Tom was a gruff man, but her father was as well. Their shared gruffness could be, in some way, emotional closeness.

So, she told the truth.

(She could feel a hand on the back of her neck, fingernails lightly pressing against her skin.)

“It’s my fault. I brought up Ella.”

Tom frowned at her, brow creasing. “What do you mean?”

“You know how he gets when I talk about mg sister.”

“You don’t have a sister.” Tom’s voice hit like a whip of judgement. He was, above all, a loyal man. The people of McDonaugh County didn’t take abandonment lightly.

(Fingers weaved into her hair and began to pull.)

“I do,” Lainey snapped. “Maybe he doesn’t have a daughter, but I still have a sister.”

“And where is your “sister” now?”


That stung. Lainey threw down her wrench, hearing it clatter against the ground, and turned around to walk away.

Lainey hated that she didn’t know. Hated that she was the one who always supported Ella, always encouraged her, and never got so much as a postcard.

Lainey knew she’d never leave McDonaugh County. Did Ella judge her for that? Think she was pathetic? Unworthy of knowing about Ella’s cosmopolitan life?

The phantom hand tugged and tugged at her hair, trying to get her to go back, trying to stop her from running away.

But it could rip her scalp off for all she cared.

—————-

**8 Waxing Gibbous**

“Where have you been?”

Her father’s voice was nervous and agitated, as though he didn’t yet believe she was home safe, standing in the entranceway.

“I got caught up working on someone’s car,” Lainey said.

“It’s almost midnight,” he said. “Next time, I’m locking you out.”

The disgust in his expression turned Lainey’s stomach.

It had been a warm summer night, the moon nearly bursting, when Ella walked out of their lives. He was always waiting for her to do the same.

But she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried.

She stared out her bedroom window at the restless lake, lit up by the almost-sphere above it.

And she wondered why she could never see the stars.

She could have sworn there used to be stars.

——————

**9 Full Moon**

When the moon was full, Lainey could see the other side of the lake. A strip of abstracted green and brown stretched out in the distance, and it occurred to Lainey that she didn’t know what it was. An island? Another county? The white-speckled water rustled up the shore. The brightness of the moon felt like needles in her eyes.

The world looked a little too clear. The sounds felt a little too real.

She waded out into the water, soaking her grease-covered jeans.

She stared down to see a face looking back.

A reflection of a reflection, she thought.

Whatever that meant.

It was beautiful here. It was a beauty that crawled inside you. That hollowed you out. That stole and hoarded thoughts from inside your head. It was a beauty like no other.

The water was not completely still. It was not a perfect mirror.

Lainey smiled.

She heard bones cracking as her reflection smiled back without lips.