“Calliope sent you out here?”
Simone finally straightens and appears slightly less distressed. “It’sa witch thing. We need ingredients for certain spells, and some of them can only be collected under a full moon.” She heaves another sigh, this one with a hint of annoyance. “Being the newest member of the coven, I volunteered. To showI’mdoing my part, or whatever.”
“Sounds like a sorority,” I confess.
“You wouldn't be wrong,” Simone tosses back. “I just wanted to learn how to use my magic, but Calliope has made things…difficult.”
I grimace awkwardly, unsure how to express my sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
She frowns and rushes closer. “No,I’msorry. Ishouldn’tbe dropping all of that on you.” Shereaches formy shoulder, but her hand passes through me. “Oop, my bad.” A small chuckle bubbles out of her then she sobers. “How are you doing? I stopped by last night to check on you, but Theo said you were sleeping?”
Theo. The name rolls around in my mind as I savor the sound of it. It must be his nickname, one his friends use. My stomach sinks. He didn’t introduce himself to me with that name. But why would he? I’m a stranger after all.
I shake my head and focus back on Simone.“You came to see me?”
“Oh course,” she says earnestly. “I was worried you might havea hard timeadjusting.You’rethe first spiritI’veever summoned, and I felt bad just leaving you to fend for yourself like that.I feel like I should be in this with you.”
Her concern is sweet, endearing really, because I know her fellow coven memberdidn’tthink twice about tossing me into the ghostly swimming pool without floaties.
“I’m fine,” I tell her, alarge smile plastered on my face. “Great actually.” To my own ears, it sounds like a lie, but shewon’tknow the difference. Afterall, my own existential dreadisn’ther fault. She did exactly what I asked her to do, and nowit’sup to me to figure out what to do with the rest of myafterlife.
Her face lights up, relief turning her frown into a grateful grin. “Oh good!I’mreally gladto hear that.”
“In fact, I went into town yesterday, and I thinkI’mgoing back again tomorrow. Or, well…today, I guess.”
“Oh,that’sgreat! Casey and I would be happy to show you around whenever you want.” Her long eyelashes flutter bashfully. “That’smy boyfriend.He’sa werewolf, buthe’sreally into ghosts.Poltergeistis his favorite movie.”
This makes me giggle. There’s certainly no harm in playing into the stereotypes. If I don’t focus too hard on the whole being dead thing, I could really have some fun with it. But I’m more of aCasper: The Friendly Ghosttype of gal.
“That sounds nice,” I tell her. “I might take you up on that”
Heat radiates through my chest, and the smile growing on my face burns my cheeks.I’mexcitedforthis. I may have just made a friend.
Simone takes a short breath and pauses,her eyes softening. “Hey,” she adds with a serious tone, “I know this is probably a lot for you to deal with, being a ghost and all, but I’m happy you’re here.”
She waves goodbye and treks back through the forest. I watch her pluck a cluster of green leaves from the bottom of a tree trunk, her expression showing she almost forgot about her purpose for being out here, then she disappears behind a wall of foliage.
Chapter Nineteen
THEO
Iwatch from the window as Kennedy finally comes back inside. Ihadn’theard her leave, but something in my gut alerted me to her absence as I was meanderingthroughthe library.
I noticed earlier in the day that a stack of old magazinesI’dplaced by the door had been disturbed. I put them there to remind myself to ask Aidan to throw them out, but I still forgot. What captured my attention was the painting on the floor. My painting. The oneI’ddone of the Empire State Building in New York City. I assumed the wind must have disturbed it and went about my day, butnowmy mind circlesback to it.
I stopped painting around the same time I started spending allmy time in the void. Up until that point, learning about how big the world was occupied most of my mind. The subscriptions were from the familywho’djust moved out, onlythey'dforgotten to cancel them, so for years afterward, I continued to receive monthly magazines with pictures of what I wasmissing out on. I painted them as a form of connecting with the images. Aidan brought me the supplies I needed, and for awhile, it was a decent enough hobby to occupy me, but like all things, the spark of creativity eventually faded.
Seeing the painting made me wonder what else hadbeenforgotten in this abandoned house. This led me to the library, and for the past several hours,I’vebeencombingthrough old journals and texts. The only books thatdidn’thave a layer of dust were the ones Aidan retrieved when he came searching for any useful information on vampire mates earlier this year. The rest of the room looks as if a veil has been draped over every surface, shrouding the titles along the spines.
One book, sitting slightly out of place on the shelf, stood out to me because of the faint fingerprints along the edge. Instinctively, I grabbed it, placing my own fingers in the exact spots Kennedy’s had been yesterday.
Whether it was this connection to her or simply good timing, somethingpulled meto the window. I catch the tail-end of her wispy form floating back through the windowadjacent tome, and I wonder whereshe’sbeen.
I wonder whether I have any right to know.
This woman is living in my house, and thoughI’vetried to help her in my own way, Idon’tfeel as ifI’veconnected with her. My subconscious is begging me to make the effort, but Idon’tknow how. Suddenly, I feel like a teenage boy again, introducing myself to a girl in my class for the first time.Perhaps itis a bit like that.Maybe, insteadof trying to readjust, I should just start over.
I meant what I said about answering her questions. Itwasn’tmy intention when I first offered up my home, but I think it should have been. After all, did Itruly believeit was possible to have a new ghost living here and never interact with her? Even if I did believe it, itdidn’twork.She’s occupied nearly all of my thoughts since she arrived.I’vebecome concernedwith her wellbeing, her whereabouts, and anything to do with the damn woman.I’mentranced, andwe’vebarely exchanged a hundred words.
