Page 59 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

She frowned. “It’s not nothing.”

“No?” His gaze dropped briefly to their joined hands before lifting back to her. “When you were there, before—” he shook his head slightly — “you came out of it shaking.”

Augustine opened her mouth. “But I’m fine—”

“You ran,” Theo continued gently. “You looked terrified.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “This time it won’t be a surprise. I’ll know what to expect and—”

“Augustine.”

She looked away. “We’re close to something,” she said quickly. “I can feel it.”

“What if you’re not meant to get close to it? What if it hurts you?”

“Then it hurts me.”

“But I promised you I would never hurt you.”

“I know, but look, Theo . . .” She forced herself to take a breath. “Whether I understand it or not, you were sent to me. That has to mean something.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t think about yourself, too.” Frustration mixed with a little concern crossed Theo’s face. “You matter, Augustine. I don’t want you to be so busy saving me that you forget about yourself in all this.”

“Theo—”

“No.” His voice gentled, but he didn’t let her wriggle free of it. “Why are you like this?”

Augustine blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“Like this.” His free hand lifted in a small, helpless gesture between them. “You throw yourself at problems like getting hurt is just . . . administrative. Like your wellbeing is somehow negotiable.” He shook his head faintly. “Why?”

The answer rose instinctively to her lips. Because somebody has to.

But the words caught there, and for a strange, disorientating second, Augustine found herself thinking of council tax bills and overdue homework. Of packed lunches and permission slips and reassuring phone calls she hadn’t felt qualified to make. Of standing in her mother’s kitchen at twenty-one, pretending she knew how to hold a family together simply because there was nobody else left to do it.

After their mother disappeared, life hadn’t paused long enough to ask Augustine what she wanted.

Clem needed stability and Maddy needed protecting, and Celestine was too clever, too brilliant, to give up her studies. Augustine, meanwhile . . .

Well. She did what was needed and stepped up.

She’d put aside plans, dreams, whole possible versions of herself, and slipped into the empty space their mother had left before anyone could notice how terrified she was. Now, she’d been sacrificing things for so long that sometimes she genuinely didn’t even recognize it as sacrifice any more. It just felt normal. It felt like life.

Theo was still watching her, waiting, and Augustine looked away.

“Please just choose a card.” She didn’t want him to prod any further at the painful points of her past.

“No.” Theo’s voice was firm. “Not until you tell me why you’re so determined to go back.”

Because stopping feels impossible now. Because I need answers, and because standing this close to you without them feels somehow worse.

“Choose a card,” she said one last time, almost pleading now. “Please.”

Slowly, he let out a breath. “Fine.” It didn’t sound like agreement so much as resignation.

His hand shifted from hers, not fully letting go, but loosening just enough that he could point one finger towards the spread of cards.

“That one,” he told her, and Augustine nodded.