“Where are we going again?”

My sister frowned. “No talking until I’ve finished your makeup.”

I was perfectly capable of applying my own makeup, but Annalise had insisted. I guessed it was another way for her to relieve her guilt over not being around during my visit. We were going to a special dinner, she said. Then she ironed my wrinkled green dress and ordered me into a chair so she could make sure I looked “my best.”

“I’m happy going to one of our regular places,” I told her as she brushed eye shadow over my lids. “It doesn’t need to be fancy.”

“Trust me. You’ll want to look good for this.”

“And I only look good in a dress and foundation?”

She shook her head. “Stop trying to pick a fight with me. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes and it’s going to be great.”

“Okay, but you’re not all that dressed up,” I pointed out.

She handed me a tissue. “Here. Blot your lips.”

I did as I was told. Annalise inspected her work and, apparently satisfied, decided to get herself dressed. I waited in the living room. It was amazing to me that only hours earlier I had confronted the shadow in the kitchen, that I had found a way to end my night stalker. My own guilt had created it. My own words sent it away.

I had tried calling Noah several times earlier in the day to tell him all about my encounter, but my calls kept going to voice mail until finally a computerized voice told me that his mailbox was full. He had probably left his phone at school, I thought. I would see him in less than twenty-four hours, though. My story could wait until then.

When my sister emerged from her bedroom, she was nowhere near as dressed up as me. Instead, she wore a short denim skirt and a T-shirt.

“Seriously?” I got off the sofa. “If that’s what you consider formal, I’m throwing on a pair of jeans.”

“Oh, no, you’re not.” Annalise grabbed her purse. “We have to go. I don’t want you to be late.”

I hurried after her. “Don’t you mean you don’t want us to be late?” She ignored me. We got into her car, and for a split second I wondered if she was taking me back home so I could go to the Prom. But a glance at the clock told me that wouldn’t be possible: it was already nine, and even if we left now, we wouldn’t make it until nearly midnight.

Besides, I realized, we weren’t headed away from town. We were driving toward the beach. Maybe she was taking me to an elegant seafood restaurant. But soon we had passed the glowing signs of the stores and restaurants with which I was familiar.

“This place is really out of the way,” I said as we continued to drive toward the water. Annalise turned near the aquarium and parked. The building was dark except for a few outdoor lights.

“We’re here.”

I got out of the car. It wasn’t until I shut the door and heard it lock behind me that I realized Annalise hadn’t turned off the engine. She rolled down the passenger window. “Have a great evening, Charlotte.” She smiled in a way that told me this had all been a trap, that I had been set up for something positively devious.

“What’s going on?”

Instead of answering, my sister simply drove away, leaving me stranded in the empty parking lot. I watched as she drove away, half expecting to see the glow of her brake lights, followed by the white reverse lights as she came back to explain the joke. But when she turned out of the parking lot and disappeared onto a side street, I knew I was stuck.

What was I supposed to do? Walk back to her apartment at night? Not that I was afraid of the shadow any longer. My concerns had more to do with drunk tourists and the physical pain of walking over a mile in heels. If Annalise was playing a joke, it wasn’t funny. In fact, I was mad.

“Charlotte?”

I turned around, and even though it was difficult to see Noah’s face in the darkness, I knew his voice. I ran to him, excited and giddy and shocked. I hugged him hard then pulled back.

“You’re wearing a suit.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t have time to get a tux. This will have to do.”

“You’re my dinner date?”

“No.” He smiled. “I’m your Prom date. Come on.”

He took my hand firmly in his and led me away from the parking lot. We followed a narrow concrete path down to the beach. Once we hit sand, I stopped and took off my uncomfortable shoes. Noah did the same, but he also took off his socks. And then we walked, barefoot, onto the cool sand.

I wanted to stop, but Noah kept walking. He seemed to know where we were going, so I let him lead the way. After a minute, we reached our destination—and I gasped.

Thick candles had been lined up in the sand. Each one glowed with a tiny flame. Beyond them, soft waves licked the beach. I could see a small box near the middle of the space illuminated by the light. Noah leaned over and pressed a button. Music filled the air.

“You did this for me?”

He kissed my cheek. “Happy Senior Prom, Charlotte.”

He pulled me close and we began to dance to the music. “If I didn’t mention it before, you look amazing,” he whispered into my ear.

I smiled and rested my cheek against his shoulder. “And if I haven’t said it yet, thank you.”

I don’t know how long we danced. Hours, probably. I do know that when I looked up at the sky, I could see a million brilliant stars.

And one lone balloon, drifting toward the heavens.