Page 104 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

Maddy looked shamefaced. “Well, a drink nearly spilled at our table, and I . . . well, I guess I may have cast a quick spell to stop it from spilling on my new shoes.”

“Shoes?” Augustine asked, utterly aghast. “You gave yourself away over a pair of shoes?”

Maddy shrugged, unrepentant. “They were limited edition Docs. They were expensive too. And I was a little drunk. You know I do stupid things when I’m drunk.”

“God, Maddy—”

“Look, I’m sorry, all right? Although not as sorry as Theo was. You should have seen the look on his face when he realized. It was horrific. He dashed away, you went after him, and the next thing . . .”

“The next thing what?”

Maddy sighed. “Well. The next thing I know, you were both banging at my door, demanding memory-erasing magic.”

“I can’t believe you agreed,” Augustine said, stopping. She grabbed Maddy’s hand. “The Rule of Three—”

Maddy winced. “Yeah. Magic has a price. I know. But what was I supposed to do? Although I did try to stop you. I told you both to just run away. Disappear. So his family would never find you. So no one would ever find you.”

“But we didn’t?” Augustine asked.

“No. You didn’t. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

Augustine’s breathing had gone shallow. “So instead we . . . ?”

Maddy nodded slightly. “You asked me to do it. All of it. Take the memories away,” she clarified. “From you. From him. To build something so strong and so effective that neither of you would go looking for the other ever again. You did it to protect us,” Maddy added kindly. “And to protect yourself. You didn’t want any of us to end up like . . . like Mum.”

A tear slipped down Augustine’s cheek. “I didn’t want to remember him?” she whispered.

Maddy’s expression flickered, something like sadness passing through it. “You didn’t want to live with it,” she corrected gently. “You said it would break you.”

Augustine took a deep, shuddering breath.

“You told me,” Maddy continued, “‘if I remember him, I’ll go back. And if I go back, I’ll choose him. And if I choose him . . . I might get all of you killed.’ You didn’t trust yourselves to walk away — so you both made it impossible to stay.”

Silence stretched between them again, and Maddy looked to the river once more. “I can’t reverse the spell, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask.”

Maddy looked back up, meeting Augustine in the eye. When she spoke, her voice was knowing. Soft and almost a little sad. “No, but you were going to. You want him back. You want then back.” She sighed. “I get it. He was nice, and when the two of you were together it was something special. But I can’t reverse it. It doesn’t work like that.”

Augustine felt a pang of grief. “You should have told us that. Before you ever cast the spell.”

Maddy gave her another look of absolute pity. “Oh, Ags, honey. I did tell you. Both of you. You both asked me to do it, anyway. But I can’t reverse it. Not for you. And not for him either.”

Augustine closed her eyes briefly, the weight of it all pressing down on her from all sides.

I did this, she realized. Not Maddy. Me.

She’d looked at the man she loved and decided the only way to survive him was to erase him.

Her eyes opened again, glassy and unfocused. “You did a good job, you know. Your spell. Pretty powerful stuff. It worked well.”

Maddy shrugged. “Not well enough, because look, here we are. To be honest, the plan seemed simple enough. You forget him. He forgets you. You both move on. A clean break. All very tidy, and all very sensible.”

Augustine’s lips parted. “But?”

Maddy looked at her, and this time, there was no softness left to cushion it. “But then he died.” She took a deep breath. “And then, just as inexplicably, he apparently came back.”

For some reason, Augustine didn’t like the sound of the word ‘apparently’. “You sound annoyed,” she remarked.