Page 67 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

“Right.” Maddy blinked. “Okay. Ags, I’m going to need you to say that again. Slower this time. Because it kind of just sounded like you said you possessed somebody today.”

“Well, today and yesterday,” Augustine confessed. “It was the tarot cards. They sent me into memories. Her memories. I . . .” She grimaced. “I became her. His girlfriend. The one from before.”

Maddy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “From before? From before what?”

Right. She’d forgotten that part.

“From before he died.”

At that, Maddy shot up from the floor and gaped at Augustine in naked shock. “He’s dead?”

“Yeah.” Augustine swallowed. “He thinks he was murdered. That’s why he came to me. For help. He’s kind of a ghost.”

Maddy was utterly silent. It was unnerving. Maddy always had something to say. Always had something to bring to the table. She was never like this.

“He thinks whoever killed him might go after his girlfriend, too,” Augustine pressed on. “If I can figure out who she is — if I can find her, warn her — then maybe . . .” Her thoughts were tangling and the faintest flicker of doubt crossed her face.

Maddy caught it immediately. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Ags.”

Augustine inhaled deeply. “It’s just, when I’m in her memories . . . She . . . she reminds me of someone.”

“Reminds you of someone?” Maddy’s brows knit together. “Who?”

Augustine looked at her. “Me. She reminds me of myself.”

There was silence, and Maddy’s expression dropped, all the colour draining from her face at once. “Augustine,” she said darkly. “Does this ghost have a name?”

Augustine hesitated, just for a second. “His name is Theo,” she said. “Theo Manford.”

“Oh, God.” Maddy’s reaction was instant. It wasn’t just surprise, but something sharper. Her whole body went rigid, like she’d been struck through with cold. The colour that had already drained from her face seemed to vanish entirely, leaving her pale and stricken in a way Augustine had never seen before.

“Maddy?”

“You have to stop this,” Maddy said, leaping to her feet, and her voice was tight and entirely controlled. A little too controlled. “Right now,” her sister carried on. “You stop it, right now.”

Augustine blinked. “What?”

“Whatever he wants,” Maddy went on quickly, shaking her head like she was trying to dislodge the very idea, “whatever he’s asking you to do . . . you need to stop. End it. Send him away. Banish him. Exorcize him. Whatever it takes. Just stop it.”

“I can’t just turn this off,” Augustine snapped, thrown. “It’s not a tap. I didn’t turn it on; I can’t just stop it now.”

“You have to,” Maddy insisted.

“Why?” Augustine demanded. “What is going on with you?”

Maddy didn’t answer. She just shook her head again, a little too quickly. “It’s not right. This whole situation . . . none of this is right. It wasn’t meant to happen.”

“What wasn’t meant to happen?” Augustine demanded. “Do you know him or something?”

“No!” Maddy said immediately. Too immediately. “No. No, not at all. It’s just—” She was visibly forcing herself to stay calm. “This has to stop. Please, Ags. Just . . . put an end to it.”

Augustine frowned, because this wasn’t like her. Maddy was many things — dramatic, chaotic, occasionally reckless — but she wasn’t like this. Not tense, and certainly never afraid. Something wasn’t adding up.

“I can’t,” Augustine said, more slowly now. “Not yet.”