“Hey, girls!” one of Summit’s staff members greeted Maisie, Feya, and Melody when they reached South Registration about halfway down the Convention Center. She pointed at the banner behind her. “Welcome to Summit 2023! Are you checking in?”

        Maisie opened her mouth, but Melody stopped her. “Why don’t we let Feya say something for once?”

        What the—? Maisie didn’t need a shady girl gaining on her beautiful fairy. She knew what she was doing. After all, Maisie had been Feya’s nurse for the past month.

        Unfortunately, she fell for Melody’s delusions—“Thank you, Melody”—and faced the staff member. “We are, ma’am. Our names are Feya Fedora and Maisie Claire Foster.”

        “Excellent.” The staff member typed into her computer and next looked at Melody. “And what about you, dear? What’s your name?”

        “Melody, but I’m not here for the convention. I was merely passing through and bumped into them. It looked like they needed an extra friend.”

        Maisie gagged.

        “We need more people like you, dear,” the staff member said to Melody. She beamed at Maisie and Feya. “All right, girls, you’re all set. Here are your nametags, a map of the resort, and room keys.” She handed everything to Feya and gestured down the Convention Center. “Your casita is right off the Convention Center. At the end of it, take a left. You’ll see the staircase and elevator. The dinner is tonight at 7:00, and activities start tomorrow morning.”

        “Thank you, ma’am.” Feya gave Maisie her nametag and checked the map.

        Okay, they were all done here, correct? Maisie wanted to get away from Melody. However, the staff member had to leave them with one last thing before she let them go officially:

        “Oh, and be on the lookout for the Veracruz Ghost.”

        Oh, gee. It looked like Maisie and Feya’s DCP adventures were far from over.

***

        “What’s the Veracruz Ghost?” Feya asked Melody as she, her, and Maisie crossed into the Coronado Ballroom section of the Convention Center. They passed a sitting area and a touch-screen computer on their lefts and stopped in front of it, across from a bathroom.

        “It’s an old legend at Coronado Springs,” Melody explained. “A ghost is said to live at the far end of the Convention Center in Veracruz, where it usually isn’t that busy. Legend has it that she’s been there for ten years, helping those in need—if you believe such things.”

        Maisie didn’t, but it appeared like Feya did. “Whoa, really? Can we check it out after the dinner?”

        Maisie scoffed. “Oh please, Feya. There are no such things as ghosts.”

        “Says the girl who doesn’t think I can care for myself,” she fought back. “This is Disney, May. Anything is possible. While I don’t believe in ghosts, I do believe our loved ones’ spirits follow us when they die.”

        Seriously, when would Maisie’s fairy let Victoriya go? She would never get her back, like how Maisie would never see her brother again.  

        Her bottom lip twitched, but Maisie stopped herself from crying. She promised herself she would try not to think too hard about Matthew during the convention. Gah, Maisie wanted Milo, but ESAs weren’t allowed at Coronado. She had thought about asking Isla, her All-Star Movies friend, if she could take care of Daisy, too, but Feya needed her until she got used to the new prosthetic.

        Even though Maisie begged her to leave, Melody tagged along to their casita. She didn’t go anywhere, so Maisie followed the flow until she and Feya reached their room.

        It was weird. Melody knew the resort like the back of her hand—every casita, pool, archway, etc.—so Maisie questioned, “Do you work here, Melody?”

        “Oh no. I’m a regular. Coronado’s my home.”

        “You’re not a CP?”

        “Don’t mention that!” Maisie and Feya jumped at Melody’s outburst. She pointed her index finger at Maisie’s chin. “I never want to hear of it again!”

        “Uh, okay. But you know Feya and I are CPs, right?” Maisie pushed Feya over a bump in the path. Casita doors were on the left of them, and a plaza was on the right. It was circular-shaped with a few benches and butterfly gardens. Tall arches led to Lago Dorado, but Maisie had not seen it yet.

        Melody halted at one casita door on the ground level and rested her palm on the brick wall. “Yes, I know you’re CPs, but you’re different. Anyway”—she gestured at the room—“this is your guys’ room. I’ll come back around 6:20 to take y’all to dinner. I then want to show you Veracruz.”

        “Thanks, but no thanks, Melody.” Maisie nudged her aside. “You’ve done enough.”

        Stumbling, Melody caught herself on the walkway’s steel railing.

        Feya gritted her teeth. “Maisie…”

        Melody popped off the rail. “But—!”

        “Goodbye.” Maisie unlocked the casita’s door, nearly shoved Feya inside, and slammed it in Melody’s face.