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Oscar frowned.“Jerome is not a ghost. But did you cause the… untidiness in the apartment?” he asked. “We need to know.”

“I helped myself to a few snacks, made myself at home. What’s the harm?” Jerome said, waving a tentacle nonchalantly.

“What’s the harm? You trashed the place!” Wallace was shaking. “WAS THAT YOU IN THE FISH TANK?”

“Delicious.” Jerome made loud lip-smacky noises. Butterbean wasn’t sure how he did it, since as far as she could tell, he didn’t have lips. “When will that be restocked, do you think?”

Wallace clenched his fists.“You took my apartment!” Marco and Polo each put a hand on Wallace’s shoulder, partly to comfort him and partly to hold him back in case he decided to charge.

“You freaked out Mrs. Third Floor!” Butterbean said.

“And you’re kind of messing up our sleepover,” Polo muttered under her breath. She didn’t think this was how sleepovers usually went.

Jerome shrugged, making waves that threatened to overflow the tub.“I had to get away. Fans can be so demanding,” he said, shooting a look at Oscar, who blushed.

“But how did you even get here?” Walt asked again.

Jerome leaned forward and looked at Walt carefully.“Are you sure you’re not with the press?” He sighed. “My assistant helped with the accommodations. He can tell you— Oh, there he is!”

The animals turned to the door, but there was no one there.

“Ahem.” A voice came from the sink. A voice they recognized. Chad.

“Chad’s your assistant?” Butterbean yelped.

“I’m not your assistant. Stop saying that, Jerome.” Chad looked a little stressed out. His tentacles were clenched, and he was turning darker and lighter randomly.

He chucked a package of shrimp over to Jerome.“I found some shrimp.” He turned to Oscar. “Got it from some guy on three. Looks like he’s planning a party.”

“Man With Stinky Sweat Socks,” Butterbean said knowingly.

“Wait, YOU KNEW?” Polo said, pointing at Chad. “WE SPECIFICALLY ASKED YOU!”

Chad rolled his eyes.“You asked about a ghost. You didn’t ask if I knew about an octopus on the fifth floor.”

Marco considered.“He’s right, we didn’t.”

“Well, STILL,” Polo huffed. “You should’ve said something.”

“Sorry, rats,” Chad said. He didn’t sound that sorry, though. “Jerome is a buddy from back in my egg days. We keep in touch.”

“Social media,” Jerome said.

“He needed a place to stay, so I told him about this place.” Chad shot a look at Jerome. “It’s short-term.”

“My stay is open-ended,” Jerome said, shooting a look back at Chad.

“What was wrong with the zoo?” Oscar asked. “They love you there!”

“THAT’S what’s wrong,” Jerome said, absentmindedly squeaking a rubber duckie. “I’m sick of all the paparazzi. All those people, gawking at me. I can’t take it anymore.” He opened the bag of shrimp and guzzled it in one gulp. “Do you know what they make me do? I have to pick football winners! And horse races! What, do they think I’m psychic?”

“Well, you do have an impressive streak going,” Oscar said.

“Sure, but it’s OBVIOUS who’s going to win. Some of those horses have ridiculous names.”

Butterbean frowned. She didn’t see how that made it obvious.

“Yeah, not like ‘Mr. Wiggles,’ ” Marco said, snickering.

Jerome shot him a frosty look.

“So you just what, took a cab? Came through the pipes?” Walt frowned. “Is this building connected to the zoo somehow?”

Jerome rolled his eyes.“Obviously not. I told you—I keep in touch with Chad on social media. I’ve seen the pictures of that human girl he rescued singlehandedly a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry, what?” That wasn’t quite how Butterbean remembered it.

“So when I saw her next to my tank, I recognized her immediately and took my chance. I’m very good with faces.” Jerome turned to Chad. “You should really remind her not to leave her water bottle unattended that way. It only took a second for me to slip inside.”

“You stowed away in a WATER BOTTLE?” Polo gasped.

“How did you DO that?” Marco examined Jerome critically. He definitely looked bigger than a water bottle.

“Talent,” Jerome said, and shrugged again (with less tentacle action this time). “Once I got into this building, it was only a matter of finding Chad.”

“I told him this apartment was empty,” Chad said. “My apartment was not an option.”

Wallace looked around helplessly.“But… are you going to keep doing that stuff? Mrs. Third Floor is really upset. And I was living here,” he said. “At least I was a tidy tenant.”

“She’ll deal with it,” Jerome said dismissively. “Can you imagine how thrilled she’d be if she knew MR. WIGGLES was staying here? She’s lucky to have me here. She could do worse. I’m obviously a step up from her last tenant.”

“But…” Wallace frowned. “HEY!”

Jerome flicked water at Oscar again. Oscar flinched.“Now, you be a good little birdie and hand me that remote.” He waved a tentacle in the direction of the sink. A remote control was lying on the countertop.

Oscar blinked in surprise, then hopped over to the remote and handed it to him.“Remote for wha—”

Jerome clicked the remote, and a television screen appeared in the bathroom mirror.