Page 97 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

Augustine didn’t answer straight away. Instead, just for a second, she sat there, her thoughts racing.

She could all too easily picture the girl she’d grown up with. The girl she’d fought with, and then, when their mother disappeared, the girl she’d raised and protected. The woman she called now when things went wrong, when things went right, when things were so ordinary they barely seemed worth mentioning. Maddy, who knew her better than anyone. Maddy, who had always been on her side. Maddy, who Augustine knew would never hurt her.

Or would she? Augustine swallowed hard, her throat tight. No matter how she turned it over, no matter how much she wanted to dismiss it, or laugh it off, or call it an impossibility, Maddy being the witch who had cursed her and Theo was the only explanation that fit. And that, for Augustine, was the worst part. Not that it might be true, but that it made such perfect sense.

“I know what to do,” Augustine finally said.

Theo studied her. “What?”

She took a deep breath. “I speak to Maddy.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Maddy worked in a part of London that Augustine rarely had any reason to visit, but the moment she stepped off the DLR into Canary Wharf, she stopped, her heart thudding heavily in her chest.

Her steps slowed as she moved through the glass and steel station, her gaze flickering over the towering buildings, the polished walkways, the clean edges of everything. new and modern. Suddenly, just like that, something clicked in her mind as memories settled into place. Her sister’s office building.

They came rushing back now, vivid and disorientating: the Halloween party; the press of bodies and music; fake cobwebs strung carelessly across the ceiling; the weight of plastic cat ears slipping down her head. And Theo . . .

Augustine nearly smiled. She remembered Theo, in a black turtleneck, looking faintly ridiculous and completely perfect, catching her as she stumbled out of a lift. This was where she’d met him. This was where it had all begun. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the warmth of his hands around her waist, just as she could still see the look of surprise in his eyes once she was in his arms.

She didn’t close her eyes, though. Right now, Augustine couldn’t allow herself to linger in the memory. Not when her chest was tight with something far sharper than nostalgia, and her mind set on just one task.

She pushed forward instead, her pace quickening as she crossed the plaza and headed straight for her sister’s office, the glass doors sliding open as if they’d been expecting her. Inside, everything was sleek and polished, all quiet efficiency and muted voices, the kind of place where nothing ever seemed out of place.

Except her. Not that Augustine cared. She walked straight up to the reception desk, skirts swishing around her leg, looking every inch the agitated witch that she was.

“Hi,” she said, a little breathless despite herself. “I need to see Madeline Pepperday. Now.”

The receptionist looked up, polite but already hesitant. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m afraid Ms Pepperday is in meetings for most of the day, but if you’d like to leave a message—”

“I need to see her,” Augustine cut in, more sharply than she intended. She took another breath. “It’s a family emergency,” she said, more softly now. “I’m her sister.”

That, at least, wasn’t a lie.

Because discovering your sister might be the witch who cursed you and your one true love into forgetting each other, rewrote your memories, and possibly orchestrated his untimely death was — Augustine felt — firmly within the bounds of urgent family matters.

The receptionist studied her, still hesitant. Augustine thought she got it. She and Maddy had different fathers, and looked nothing alike. Maddy wore power suits and heels to her work, while Augustine was dressed in a corseted tie-dye ensemble that screamed ‘something wicked this way comes’. No wonder the receptionist paused.

“You’re her sister?” the receptionist asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Augustine said firmly. “Augustine Pepperday. I’m her emergency contact, if that helps at all. I can give you all the right details, too, if you’d like them. Birth date, middle names, address.”

The receptionist typed something into her computer. “No, I don’t need any more details. Just your name is fine, and yes, here you are,” she said, nodding once to her screen. “Maddy’s sister. That’s no problem then. Give me a minute, and I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Augustine watched as the receptionist made a call, relaying a few details into the receiver. The receptionist nodded once, and then turned back to Augustine.

“You can go up. Thirteenth floor.”

“Thank you.”

Augustine punched the button in the lift and nervously tapped her foot as it rode upwards to the thirteenth floor.

Maddy’s office door was half-open on arrival. Augustine barely knocked before pushing it wider and stepping inside.