Luna recalls a summer evening in 2007 when her cousin Emily, then seven, insisted she had a friend who lived in the woods behind their grandmother's house. The friend had no face, only a voice that called from the old swing set at dusk. Luna went to see for herself and found the swing moving slowly, back and forth, though no one was on it. The next day, Emily was gone. Luna found her sitting at the base of the swing set, staring at something only she could see. The friend had a name, and Emily said it was the same as the one carved into the wooden seat—a name that had been there for thirty years. Luna never forgot the sound of that swing creaking in the still air, or the way Emily smiled when she said her friend was coming closer.