Chapter 14
I’m watching a modern-day miracle happen before my very eyes. For the first time in her seventeen years of living, Kayla Tan decides to break curfew. Under her parents’ strict orders, she’s always supposed to go straight home after school.
When the milk tea stand at our canteen malfunctioned one day and everyone who stayed after school got free drinks, Kayla still went straight home. Even when a Taylor Swift impersonator had an impromptu performance at Saint Agnes, Kayla skipped because it was scheduled after dismissal.
And plot twist, her parents were surprisingly cool with it.
When Kayla called her mom, Auntie Grace gave her permission to go home later than usual when Kayla said she was bringing me to Bible study (not taking credit, but I did come up with the alibi).
My rebel best friend didn’t even crack when we asked my sister for her ID so I could leave school with Kayla.
Since the Swifties Who Crochet club took over the library for their weekly “stitch meeting,” Kayla and I sneaked into Achi’s office again to do more research. Correction: I’m doing research. Kayla’s been binge-watching the Pagpag movie again.
“So the ghost appears because the group broke all the superstitions they were supposed to do at the wake…” Kayla keeps dictating the Pagpag movie plot as she replays the same scenes over and over again on the office projector.
She then fast-forwards to where the movie shows the ghost’s backstory. “And the reason the ghost shows up is because his wife made a deal with the devil—that her husband could come back to life if his ghost murdered nine people…”
The room goes silent and I look up to see that Kayla paused the movie. Concern floods Kayla’s face when she looks over her shoulder. “Niks?”
“Yeah?” I say, while still trying to decipher another article about the dead pigs that were brought back to life.
“Is there … would you…” She pauses and lowers her voice. “Did you do a … deal too?”
I stop and scan her face. “Are you asking me if I’m capable of murder?”
“I mean, I think you’re capable of anything.”
Only Kayla Tan can make a murder accusation sound like a compliment.
“As much as I love the idea of murder—”
“Murdering nine people,” Kayla clarifies.
“Murdering nine people,” I repeat. “I don’t think we’ll find the answers behind my dad’s reappearance from some ghost movie.”
“Should we try another movie then?”
I tell her to stop scrolling through Netflix and check out my progress. She gets up from the couch and takes the other desk chair. “See?” I say, gesturing toward Achi’s computer and my extensive notes. “Scientific research.”
Kayla’s forehead scrunches as she reads the back of the prom countdown flyer that Dani shoved in our faces. At least she provided me with extra paper for my notes. “Why are you writing about pig organs?”
“There are scientists from Yale who were able to revive these pigs that had been dead for an hour.”
“How?”
I read the note I had underlined. “With a nutrient-rich fluid.”
“Very specific,” Kayla says sarcastically. “Maybe we can pump your dad’s ghost with Gatorade.” She purses her lips and skims more of my notes. “These theories sound way too scientific.”
“And you think your murder theory is better?”
“Than reviving a ghost with Gatorade?” she says. “Um, yeah!”
Kayla then asks me to repeat more details of when Pa first showed up, what his ghost exactly looked like, if he mentioned anything about a timeline.
I double-check again to make sure that Kayla’s actually being serious. Kayla has always rode along whenever I’d rant about Dr. Derrick, Dani, how white chocolate doesn’t deserve to be called chocolate—but this whole stuff about Pa and his ghost?
“You really believe what I told you?” I ask. “The whole thing about my dad coming back as a ghost?”
She staggers back with my question. “Is he … with us?” Kayla suddenly ducks and raises her arms to the side. “Did I accidentally hit him? How long has he been here?!”
I move her arms down and tell her he isn’t here. “Why do you believe me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because the story sounds crazy,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t believe it if you told me.”
Kayla sighs and swivels my chair so I face her. “How long have we been best friends?”
“Probably since our moms’ first sonogram,” I joke.
“Yeah, and you never talk about your dad. Not since … well, since what happened,” she says. “So if you’re telling me that his ghost came back, I believe you.”
Then she adds, “Best friends.”
My heart squeezes at that. “So does that mean you’ll defend me … even if I murder nine people?”
Kayla rolls her eyes. “My parents wouldn’t approve.”
“Auntie Grace loves me,” I remind her. “Didn’t she extend your curfew because we’re together?”
“Yeah, but she’ll never let me leave church if she finds out I’m friends with a murderer,” Kayla says, and I laugh. When I click open a new window on my sister’s computer, I suddenly notice a shortcut that’s labeled Secret.
… My sister can’t label a folder in her computer Secret and expect me to not open it.
Oh my god.
My sister’s such a hypocrite!!!
Achi kept gloating about how responsible she was, how Ma entrusted her with Ma’s red notebook while all this time, my sister scanned everything.
“What’s that?” Kayla asks.
“My sister’s betrayal.”
She categorized all of Ma’s superstitions into different tabs—New Year, health, love, death. Achi even highlighted and added notes in the margins for Ma’s superstitions for taking exams.
Beside Wear red undergarments to attract good luck!, my achi wrote, 2011 medicine boards topnotcher allegedly wore red briefs and ate a red empanada. She didn’t even type it. It’s in her signature scratchy handwriting!
There’s even physical proof that Achi made copies of Ma’s notebook behind her back! I take several screenshots for insurance. The next time Achi tries to throw out my pancit canton stash, I’ll have leverage.
“Wait,” Kayla says when I’m about to email myself all the evidence. “There was a paragraph there about death superstitions.”
“These are just random superstitions that Ma writes down. They never make any sense—”
Kayla then takes the mouse and scrolls through the page. She keeps gasping the more she takes in. “This aligns with everything you’ve been telling me about your dad.”
Pagpag superstition: Don’t go home immediately after a wake or risk spirits following you home.
“Well, Pa’s ghost showed up a day after I didn’t pagpag, and technically it wasn’t his wake…”
“Butterfly superstition.” Kayla reads another entry. “Butterflies are a sign of a dead loved one making their presence felt.”
Before I can argue, Kayla says, “True or false. Didn’t you say that a butterfly appeared right before you saw your dad? And isn’t that a sign of a loved one making their presence felt?”
“You know, it’s hard to do true or false when you give two statements at the same time.”
She chooses to ignore my very valid point.
Kayla scrolls through more entries and then clicks on a tab labeled Forty-day prayer.
Many Filipinos believe that the souls of the dead wander the Earth forty days after their death. To help them pass on, the family does a forty-day prayer.
She faces me and jabs her finger at the screen. “Before you point out all the ways this isn’t logical…”
“I wasn’t going to,” I say—even though I was definitely going to.
“Consider this for a moment,” Kayla urges. “You’ve been doing all this research on dead pigs to figure out how long your dad’s ghost is staying. What if the answer is in Auntie Beth’s superstitions?”
“Again, the cells of the pig were revived after being dead for an hour,” I point out. “It’s groundbreaking scientific research!”
Kayla rudely closes the tab when I show her more of the pigs. She sighs and says, “When your dad shows up as a ghost, I don’t think that has anything to do with science, Niks. It becomes a matter of faith.”
Despite my gut telling me that the pig research has more scientific value, I try to think like how Ma would. What if the answers are all in Ma’s superstitions?
Achi and Ma had a fight about Pa’s fortieth day years ago.
Ma wanted to host a big prayer service for Pa, but Achi thought it was better to do something more private.
In the end, we all had to put on our everything’s-fine-with-the-Ilagan-family faces while going through another round of people telling us they were sorry for our loss.
I keep staring at the number forty on the screen. “What if … the forty-day thing doesn’t only apply to recently dead souls?” I consider. “What if … all souls only get to wander the Earth for forty days … then maybe we start counting from when Pa’s ghost first appeared…”
“Which was a day ago, right?” Kayla confirms.
“Right…” I flip over the flyer I’ve been writing on and read the headline: 39 DAYS UNTIL PROM! If this forty-day superstition is correct, then Pa’s ghost has until prom night.
And then Kayla tells me, “Time to believe in things you don’t see.”