Page 123 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

“I know you were his first,” she said softly, rubbing her cheek on Bird’s sleek head. “Sorry I couldn’t bring him home for you.”

Bird purred in response, and it lightened something in Augustine’s heart. Something that still ached for Theo, and what might have been.

“Well,” said a familiar voice, dry as old paper, “this is deeply touching, but I do feel I should point out that if you had, in fact, brought him home, I would have had to move out. Which I wouldn’t on principle, because I was here first.”

Augustine didn’t startle this time. She just lifted her head, still absently stroking Bird, and looked over. Roy was exactly where he always was — sprawled in his usual chair like he’d never left it, one leg slung over the arm, watching her with mild disapproval.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” she replied.

“Nonsense,” Roy replied. “It suits me beautifully. I’ve had years to perfect it.” His gaze flicked down to Bird. “And for the record, that cat is getting dangerously above his station.”

Bird blinked slowly, completely unbothered.

A small smile tugged at Augustine’s mouth, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Roy watched her, something a little sharper settling in beneath the humour. “Well? Go on. Tell me then. How did it go with lover-slash-ghost-slash-coma boy?”

Augustine exhaled, leaning back into the sofa. “That depends. Do you want to hear the whole album — or just the hit single?”

Roy considered that. “I’ll take the hit single tonight. I’m feeling emotionally fragile. The whole album might actually finish me off.”

She shrugged. “I let him go. Sent him back,” she added. “To himself.”

“Right.” Roy nodded. “I’m going to pretend I understood everything you just said, and tell you that it was the right thing to do . . . Probably.”

Augustine didn’t answer straight away, just kept her hand moving over Bird’s back in slow, steady strokes, her thoughts turning over something deeper now. “It was the right thing to do, and I think . . .” She paused.

“You think?”

“I think I want to do more of the right things,” she said eventually. “Going forward. And less of the wrong ones.”

Roy raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly qualifies as ‘wrong’, in your current philosophical framework?”

“Letting what happened to my mother hold me back,” she said firmly. “Letting guilt dictate everything I do.” Her fingers stilled briefly in Bird’s fur. “Not exploring this new power I have.” She hesitated, before adding, more quietly, “And not helping the people who I know need my help.”

Roy’s expression shifted slightly at that. “You went out to talk to a man and came back this enlightened after letting him go? That’s a two-hour glow up. I mean, who are you now, Melinda Gates?”

Augustine laughed, she looked at Roy with soft eyes. “Do you need my help, Roy?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t deflect, for once, and Augustine tilted her head slightly, her gaze steady now.

“My help,” she clarified. “My . . . special help.”

This time, Roy didn’t look away. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean—” Augustine began, before she thought the better of it. Instead, she sat back, running her hand over Bird’s back once more. She exhaled lightly. “I’m moving out tonight, Roy. I won’t be back.”

“What are you talking about? You can’t leave,” Roy replied, a little too quickly, his tone almost bordering on indignant, “No, absolutely not.” He sat forward in the chair. “We’re only halfway through Stranger Things.”

Augustine let out a breath, something fond and aching threading through it. “Roy—”

“No, I’m serious,” he cut in, his voice sharper now. “You can’t just abandon me mid-arc. That’s not fair. We’ve got unresolved plot lines. Emotional investments. You have the Netflix login. What am I supposed to do without you?”

She shook her head gently. “I’m sorry, Roy. I have to go. I want to go home.”

Roy’s mouth opened, then closed again. “This is your home,” he finally argued.

“It isn’t. It never was. I live above my shop. That’s where I’m going back to. My real home.”

Roy leaned back slowly. “And what?” he asked eventually, his voice dry again. “I’m just supposed to sit here and wait for the next unsuspecting tenant to wander in? Start the whole charm routine over again?”