Page 101 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

Something in Augustine’s chest gave a small, traitorous flicker. “I thought it was endearing.”

Maddy snorted lightly. “Of course you’d say that.” Her expression softened again. “I could tell you really loved him,” she went on, more quietly now. “You went from never dating to living with this guy in three months. You were so settled. So happy, and I was excited for you. Excited to see you so happy.”

Maddy traced the rim of her cup absently.

“I remember the first time I came round after you’d moved in together,” she said. “You opened the door, and there he was . . . just there, in your shop. Like he’d always been there.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “And then there was the cat, too.”

Augustine nodded. “Bird.”

“Bird,” Maddy echoed. “Which, by the way, is still a ridiculous name.”

“I like it.”

“You might like it, but you hate cats,” Maddy went on. “You’ve always hated cats. You used to say they were evil incarnate.”

“They are,” Augustine muttered.

“And yet,” Maddy said, pointing lightly at her, “you loved Bird. Immediately, and with no hesitation. Because he was Theo’s.”

Augustine swallowed.

“I remember thinking,” Maddy’s voice softened further, almost distant now, “this is it. This is the one that sticks. I mean, the guy even got you to like a cat. You know, I’m like Mum myself,” she added with a shrug. “Don’t see the point in long-term relationships with men. But you genuinely seemed happy, and so I was willing to accept Theo into the family. I was willing to open up to someone who fit you so well.” Maddy’s expression changed. “Or . . . so I thought.”

Augustine watched as the softness in her sister drained away, replaced by something heavier. Something darker. Maddy’s fingers stilled against her cup, her shoulders tensing just slightly as she walked.

“So you thought? What does that even mean, Maddy?” Augustine ventured cautiously.

Maddy didn’t look at her. Instead, she just kept walking, her eyes on the path before them. When she finally did stop and look into Augustine’s eyes, there was something in her expression that hadn’t been there before. Something that made Augustine’s stomach drop.

“It means what you think it does.” Maddy let out a slow breath, her gaze dropping briefly to her drink before lifting back to Augustine. “You see, Ags, the problem with falling in love that quickly, with moving in together that quickly, is that you don’t really know the person you’re with.”

Augustine’s frown deepened immediately. “That’s not true—”

“It is true. And your Theo,” Maddy continued, cutting across her, her tone still calm but firmer now, “was hiding things. Big things.”

Something cold slid into Augustine’s chest. “No,” she said, sharper this time. “No, that’s not true. I knew him. I know him.”

Maddy’s expression didn’t change. “Ags—”

“He wouldn’t,” Augustine pushed on, her voice rising slightly. “He wouldn’t lie to me like that. He wouldn’t hide something from me—”

“You don’t know Theo,” Maddy interrupted sharply. “You know nothing about him.”

Augustine stopped walking first, and Maddy turned to hold her gaze, unflinching now.

“You just know a version of him,” she went on mercilessly. “A version shaped by what he chose to show you. And now?” She tilted her head slightly. “Now you know a ghost. A memory. A handful of feelings that somehow survived something they shouldn’t have.”

Augustine’s throat tightened.

“You don’t know him,” Maddy said again. “You never really did.”

Silence rang in Augustine’s ears, she couldn’t quite process what she was hearing. Couldn’t quite make it make sense. “What— what do you mean?” she asked finally, her voice shaky.

Maddy shrugged and lifted her drink, idly licking a bit of foam from the rim of the cup. The scent hit Augustine instantly. Cinnamon.

It was warm and achingly familiar, and her stomach flipped with sudden longing.

Theo.