"I can never trust her," I said flatly.
"I puked in your bed after that crazy party two years ago, and you said you would never talk to me again, yet here we are," Archer said.
"Ugh, I forgot about that."
"I really drank a lot that night."
"It was disgusting."
"But you love me, and it’s okay!" Archer wrapped his arms around me. I pushed him off.
"At least go talk to her," Remy said. "Penny said she was sorry, and most importantly, she made amends."
"You’re the so-called rational one," Hunter said. "Prove it.”
I couldn't back down from a challenge. I peeled myself off the lounge chair.
"Better shower first," Mace suggested. "You can’t show up covered in pizza."
* * *
One shower later,I was standing in front of the old Victorian house. A storm was gathering above me. I could smell it. Penny loved thunderstorms. She said they made her feel cozy.
I'd sent Mace away after he dropped me off. I didn't know how long I'd be. There was a car in front that I didn’t recognize. Was it Penny’s? Would she hear me out? Or was she angry at me still? I didn’t want to lose her. I knocked on the door—or almost knocked on the door. Morticia opened it a crack before I could make contact with the peeling paint.
"The house has been sold," she said. "No more offers are being accepted at this time."
"Excuse me," I growled, pushing my way inside. "Where is Penny?"
"Gone," the twins stated.
"Gone where?"
"This is our new house, mister," a pug-nosed kid said, stamping his feet at me. "You need to leave."
"You sold the house?" I asked incredulously. "Penny loves this house."
"We’re going to have the whole thing covered in shiplap, mirrors, and those blond wood cabinets from Ikea," the kid's mom said excitedly.
"You’re going to let them do that to the house?" I hissed to the twins.
"They made a good offer," Lilith said with a shrug. "We’re about to sign."
"I’ll make you a better offer," I said to Morticia. I hated losing. Penny would definitely never forgive me if this house was sold to people who were going to paint it rainbow colors.
"You're too late," Dottie said.
"It's our house now," the kid's father said. "We’re under contract. Only the buyer can cancel the contract."
Lightning flashed, and the lights flickered. The old organ in the music room wailed, the sound vibrating through the floorboards.
"What's that?" the kid screamed, clinging to his mother’s leg.
"It’s the ghost," I told them seriously.
"This house isn’t haunted! Don’t tease these poor people, Garrett," Dottie reprimanded.
Thunder boomed. Dottie crossed herself nervously. Salem stood at the top of the stairs and yodeled. The wind howled, the shutters banged, and outside, leaves and branches started swirling around ominously. Was that a tornado forming?
