Ryan toppled forward, arms windmilling.
He crashed face-first into the mud with a wet splat.
Eleanor stared at him.
Ryan pushed himself up, spitting mud. "See? She pushed me!"
Eleanor crossed her arms. "Ryan, you just… fell over. You could have done that yourself."
"What? No! She shoved me from behind!"
"You fell forward into the mud," Eleanor said flatly. "That's not exactly hard to fake."
"I'm not faking it!"
"Prove it."
Ryan wiped mud from his face, frustration building. "How am I supposed to—"
He stopped.
Wait. Maybe she could… yeah, that's good.
Ryan turned to the little girl. "Okay, um… what's your name?"
The ghost tilted her head. "I'm Elly!"
"Elly?" Ryan repeated.
"Yeah! With a 'y'!" She beamed proudly.
Ryan nodded. "Okay, Elly. Can you pull at the front of my collar? Just grab it and pull."
Elly's eyes lit up. "Like this?"
She reached up and grabbed Ryan's shirt, yanking it forward.
From Eleanor's perspective, Ryan's collar suddenly pulled outwards.
