The Gibbston girls are sort of sisters. The Gibbston girls sort of live on a farm in the Gibbston Valley. The Gibbston girls only sort of live on the farm, because the Gibbston girls are dead. Now they haunt the farm instead.

  When they were alive, they all had different mothers. Their mothers all had one thing in common. They all loved the letter C.

  That is why the four Gibbston girls are called Carla, Cassie, Crissie, and Callie.

  Carla is the eldest. She is eleven and she has been eleven for many years now. Carla has short brown hair, green eyes, and tan skin with many freckles. Carla is a very good navigator. She never gets lost. That’s why she’s the leader.

  Then there is Cassie. Cassie is nine and she has tan skin, brown eyes, and long dark hair, as dark as the night sky. Cassie loves the night sky very much. When she was alive, she used to look up at it through her telescope for hours and hours until their father would tell them all to go to sleep.

  Crissie is seven and she is a troublemaker. That’s what her teachers would say all the time. All because of this one time when she glued a boy’s shoes to the floor. Crissie has blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. She wears her hair in two plaits to keep it out of the way during her many adventures.

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  Callie is the youngest. Callie is five. She has wispy red hair, fair skin, brown eyes, and a missing front tooth. Callie loves to draw and write. She draws pictures and her favorite words wherever she can. Drawing is a lot harder now that she is a ghost, but Callie is a very determined artist. Today her favorite word is ‘fluffy.’

  “Fluffy! Fluffy! Fluffy! Fluffy!” Callie squealed in delight as she pointed up at the sky. “That one’s fluffy. And that one’s fluffy.”

  It was a very nice day, and all four of the sisters were lying on the grass among the rocks a little way up the hill from the farmhouse.

  Each one of them had been trying to find clouds shaped like animals.

  “Fluffy is not an animal,” said Carla. Carla was always very sensible.

  “Well, I think that one’s a horse. I miss being able to ride horses,” Crissie moaned. All of Crissie’s clouds looked like horses.

  “You never rode horses,” said Carla. “Not even when you were alive.”

  “Well, I wish I could ride a horse now,” said Crissie.

  “I miss my telescope.” Cassie sighed. “And I did have one of those when I was alive. I wish they hadn’t taken all of our things away. And I wish it was night so I could see the stars. Clouds don’t have names like the stars, do they?”

  “Oh, enough with all your wishing,” said Carla. “Wishing never changed anything.”

  “Car!” cried Callie. But she wasn’t looking up at the clouds. She was looking down at the driveway. “There’s a car!”

  All four sisters looked down at the windy road that snaked up the hill to their house like a grey python sleeping in the grass. A white truck was making its way slowly around the last bend. It looked like a moving truck. For the first time in years, would the farm finally have people living in it again?