Page 61 of Specters & Spotlights

There was a pause, weighty but not uncomfortable.

Graham’s brows knit slightly, but his voice was light, “So ghosts. They’re real.”

She smiled faintly. “Very.”

He gave her a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Cool. Cool cool cool. So I guess I’ll cross ‘surprise seance’ off my first-date ideas list.”

Elise laughed despite herself, the knot in her chest easing just a bit.

“That’d be smart,” she said. “I’ve got friends on both sides of the veil.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, straightening slightly. “Do any of them know how to ward off over-possessive exes? Asking for a friend.”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

Graham stepped in closer, careful not to crowd her. “I didn’t know what happened that night. You looked terrified. I… didn’t know if I should follow you or give you space.”

“You made the right call,” she said. “I needed space.”

“Well,” he said softly, “if he ever shows up again… I’ve got terrible Latin pronunciation and a flair for the dramatic. I could try an exorcism next time.”

Elise gave a small laugh. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in my back pocket.”

There was a beat where neither of them said anything, and the warmth in the room threatened to tip into something more.

Graham looked like he wanted to stay—wanted to say something else. But instead, he took a step back. “I’ll let you finish your wig sorcery.”

He offered her a crooked little smile, then turned and disappeared down the hallway.

She watched him go, the warmth of his presence lingering long after he disappeared down the hallway. The room felt quieter now. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

And then, as if cued by the unseen orchestra of her life, the piano began to play again from the orchestra pit. A soft, wistful melody drifted through the walls—full of possibility, and maybe a little hope.

Kevin’s voice floated in from nowhere. “Ooooh, he’s got it bad.”

Elise rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Don’t start.”

But her cheeks were still warm.

And the music played on.

Chapter Eleven

Elise

The next day, Elise arrived early. Earlier than she needed to. The scent of sawdust and hairspray clung to the walls, familiar and grounding. But today, she was on a mission—to soothe the Seamstress before she sabotaged another hemline or mysteriously mangled a crucial costume hook.

Her satchel was heavier than usual, weighed down by the contents of a package that had arrived that afternoon. Elise had barely waited for the door to click shut before she’d torn the box open on the edge of her bed, heart catching as each item surfaced like a small blessing.

As promised, Cici had sent everything Elise might need: tightly bundled sage and palo santo, a fresh salt blend in a little cork-stopped jar, a mirror sigil drawn in deep ink on thick, hand-torn paper, and the familiar orange spice candle that always made Elise feel like it was autumn year-round. There was also a delicate anklet braided from soft thread and moonlit silver, a tiny charm in the shape of a crescent moon dangling from its side, with some symbols engraved on it—protection and affection looped together.

And then there were the extras.

Homemade lemon poppyseed cookies wrapped in wax paper. A folded napkin with “Eat something, or I swear I’ll haunt you myself” written in Cici’s looping hand. A lucky coin with a note that simply read, “You never know.”

The envelope had been buried underneath it all, cream-colored and quiet. Elise had stared at it for a long moment before sliding it into the bottom of her suitcase, tucked under her spare pair of black boots. She wasn’t ready yet. But it was there.

Now, as she stepped into the theatre’s greenroom and felt a cold draft swirl by the costume rack, she knew the Seamstress was watching.