Page 100 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

Even now. Even when she was this angry.

Augustine fixed her sister with a look of pure disbelief. “You cursed me,” she said, the words cutting cleanly through the soft wash of the Thames and distant chatter of other pedestrians.

Maddy glanced up. “Yes,” she said, equally direct, and there was no hesitation. No flinching.

Augustine felt her chest tighten.

“Although, curse is a strong word,” Maddy added, taking a sip of her latte. “I prefer to say I cast a spell on you.”

“And on Theo,” Augustine added, her voice sharper now.

Maddy’s expression flickered, just for a second. “Yes,” she said again, more quietly this time.

Something twisted violently in Augustine’s chest. “And you thought . . . what?” she demanded. “That we’d just go about like normal afterwards? Talk about it over coffees like this is some kind of miscommunication?” She glanced down at her cup and frowned. “Oh, and witches getting a Starbucks pumpkin spice latte the week before Halloween? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

Maddy’s mouth twitched, like she was trying very hard not to smile.

Augustine’s glare sharpened. “This isn’t funny.”

“Well, it kind of is—” Maddy saw the look on her sister’s face and evidently thought the better of things. Sobering immediately, she said, “Right. Not funny.”

Augustine picked up her pace, her entire body still braced. “Start talking,” she said. “And start from the part where you said you cursed us because I asked you to. I mean, that’s ridiculous. If you’re going to lie, at least come up with something vaguely plausible.”

Maddy took another sip of her latte.

“Maddy!”

Maddy shook her head. “Fine. Okay, look, that wasn’t a lie.”

“No, Maddy, I—”

Maddy held up a hand. “You wanted me to talk. So let me talk.”

Augustine closed her mouth.

Maddy tapped her fingers against her cup, pushing an errant strand of hair away from her face. “So, um, I met Theo for the first time around six months ago.”

“Six months ago?” Augustine repeated, a little in shock. “No, that’s too recent—”

“It was six months ago,” Maddy said again bluntly, before she sighed. “Look, I know some of this information is going to be new to you, and I know how muddled things must be in that mind of yours, but please believe me when I say that for the next twenty minutes, everything I say will be the truth. I met Theodore Manford for the first time six months ago. And you only met him six months before that. Last Halloween.”

Augustine let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head almost immediately. “No,” she said, the word slipping out under her breath. “No, that’s . . . that’s not right.”

Because it wasn’t right. A year? Just a year? That was nothing.

She and Theo . . . they’d lived together. Properly lived together. They’d shared space and routines, shared everything. She’d seen it for herself, hadn’t she? His things mixed with hers; photographs of a life lived together on their fridge door.

“No,” she said, more to herself than to Maddy, her voice quieter now, threaded through with something unsteady. “That’s not enough time. We . . .” She swallowed. “We built a life together. A home together. That takes time.”

Maddy watched her, something softer settling into her expression again. “Sometimes it does,” she agreed gently. “But sometimes it doesn’t, and you and Theo were so in love and so keen to be together and . . . Look, I know it probably feels like more. But you only had six months with him, Ags, and you only lived together for three of those.” She stopped. “You know, I actually liked Theo.”

The shift caught Augustine off guard. “What?”

“I liked him,” Maddy repeated with a small shrug. “He was nice. A bit much at times, but nice.”

Augustine blinked at her. “A bit much?”

“Ags, he talked about statistics. A lot,” Maddy said, deadpan. “Like, an alarming amount. I mean, we all like the Titanic, sure, it’s a classic. But knowing the death rate for second-class passengers broken down by age, gender and economic status?” She shook her head. “That’s not a personality, that’s a spreadsheet, honey.”