Page 68 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

Maddy gave her a look that was made of part disapproval, part anger.

“I need to help him,” Augustine went on. “And besides . . . there’s something else.”

Maddy’s shoulders tightened. “What?”

Augustine searched for the words, her unease growing as she spoke them aloud. “I feel like I know him. Like we’ve met before but I can’t remember it.” Her eyes flicked to Maddy’s. “And then there’s Bird.”

The silence that followed was heavy.

“What about Bird?” Maddy finally asked.

Augustine looked at her, a flicker of unease passing over her face. “Do you know how I got him? Because I don’t. I can’t remember, Mads. I can’t remember where I got my own cat from.”

Maddy shrugged, a little too quickly. “He was a gift.”

“From who?”

Maddy simply shrugged again. She chewed on her thumbnail for a beat, before she seemed to realize what she was doing and grimaced. “You never said.”

“Okay, but then Theo . . .” Augustine continued, her gaze sharpening as she looked back at her sister. “He can’t remember his own girlfriend. It’s like there’s a block there.” She held Maddy’s gaze for a long moment. “Is this magic, do you think?”

Maddy shifted, visibly uncomfortable now. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Augustine echoed. “Come on, Maddy. Be real. It has to be magic. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Maddy shrugged again, but it wasn’t careless now. There was tension. Hesitation. “Maybe,” she said again. “You and I have both heard of it happening before. But it would take a witch of enormous power to cast something like that.”

Augustine nodded slowly. “I know. The risk to the witch would be huge. None of us would be stupid enough to go near magic like that.”

Maddy looked away.

“But someone has,” Augustine added. “And I need to find out who.”

“No, you don’t,” Maddy insisted, looking back. “Ags. You have to stop it,” she said again, but there was something different in her voice this time. Not just urgency, but fear. “Please,” she added. “Please. The next time he appears — corporealizes, whatever, just . . . stop it. Send him away.”

Augustine opened her mouth to argue, but Maddy saw it coming.

Her sister took a breath, steadying herself, and stepped closer. “Augustine, please.”

“I just—”

“It’s what Mum would have said,” Maddy said flatly, cutting her off, and Augustine stopped. “Mum would have told you the same thing. We’re careful first, right? Always and forever, we’re careful first.” Maddy paused. “You need to be careful now. And not just for your sake. For all of our sakes.”

Augustine opened her mouth to argue — and then stopped, staring at her sister. There was something off here, she realized. Something in the way Maddy spoke . . . it didn’t sit right, and it wasn’t the words themselves. Those made sense. Careful first. Always and forever. That had been drilled into them since they were children.

No. It wasn’t the words. It was her.

The tension in Maddy’s shoulders. The way she wouldn’t quite meet Augustine’s eyes for too long. The speed with which she’d denied knowing Theo. Too fast, and far too neat.

Augustine felt a slow, uneasy clarity begin to settle.

Maddy isn’t telling me something. But it’s Maddy. Why would she lie?

Augustine’s gaze sharpened, studying her sister in a new light.

Theo Manford. It was when I said his name.

That had been the moment everything changed.