The fan meet was over, the crowds gone, and Zoey sat alone on the edge of the stage watching confetti drift across the empty auditorium like glittering snow. Her phone buzzed with messages from Mira and Rumi asking if she'd made it home. She ignored them for now.

The silence felt wrong. A creak echoed from backstage. Zoey slid off the stage, curiosity outweighing caution. The lights flickered overhead as she approached the curtain.

“Hey, um... hi?” she called. “If you're looking for the manager, he already left. Unless you're a ghost, which is—uh—fine too.”

No answer. Her heart fluttered, but she lifted her chin and smiled anyway.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Whoever you are, you can come out. I don't bite.”