Page 91 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

Today, though, was not that day. Today was theirs. Entirely and utterly.

There was just one teeny, tiny problem with Augustine’s grand plan.

She didn’t have a key for the door leading upstairs.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Upstairs. That was all that had mattered to her fevered brain. Not simple things like locked doors and keys.

Augustine tried the door one more time, Theo close behind her, as if hope alone could open it for them. Honestly, she had the gift of time travel and she couldn’t even get through a locked door? What kind of a joke was that?

Behind her, Theo cleared his throat. “So,” he began easily. “The door. It’s locked, right?”

“Yes.” She pushed down on the handle. “Yes, it is.” She let out a slow breath, pressing her lips together, still tingling from Theo’s kiss, as reality — petty, mundane, incredibly inconvenient reality — came crashing back in. She was hoping to go upstairs to make love to a ghost, and that wasn’t the ridiculous part of her day. No, this was. This hopelessly frustrating, hopelessly awful, hopelessly locked door. “I kind of forgot that I don’t have the key,” she admitted. “It was probably taken when our memories were removed.”

Theo blinked. “You don’t have the key.”

“Nope,” she replied, turning to look at him now, one hand lifting in a small, helpless gesture. “Look, it hasn’t exactly been used much recently, in fact, it's been more of a theoretical upstairs than an actual one. And apparently whoever cursed us didn’t just go for the dramatic memory wipe, they also thought, ‘you know what would really sell this? Petty, practical inconvenience.’ So they took the key as well.”

Theo held her gaze, something troubled passing over his face. “They really did a thorough job on us, didn’t they?”

“Yep.” Augustine straightened, turning back to him with a look that hovered somewhere between exasperation and outright disappointment. “We were having a moment, too.”

“The best moment,” he confirmed. “And now,” he echoed, glancing at it, “we are being thwarted by basic home security.”

Augustine sighed. “This is ridiculous. I refuse to accept that after everything we’ve been through — memory loss, death, supernatural interference — we’re going to be defeated by a lock. There must be some way in.”

“Well . . .” Theo began, an odd uncertainty creeping into his voice, like he wasn’t entirely sure he should be saying it.

Augustine frowned slightly. “Well what?”

He hesitated, then reached into the pocket of his coat. It was the same slightly oversized one he’d been wearing since the beginning, since the moment he’d first appeared in her shop.

“When I first came back,” he said slowly, his fingers searching inside the lining, “I had this coat on. And in the pocket . . .”

He pulled something out. Her business card, with the same looped handwriting on the back she knew was hers, even if she hadn’t believed it at first.

“My card,” she said blankly. “I remember. I gave it to you on our third date.”

“There was this too, remember?” Theo added, lifting his other hand. Held tight in his fingers was a key. Augustine went very still.

“The key,” she stammered. “You had it the whole time. Why would you have it?”

Theo gave a small, helpless shrug. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But it can’t be a coincidence, right?”

Her pulse quickened, because no. No, it couldn’t be a coincidence. Nothing about this had been a coincidence. Not after the way things kept circling back, the way they kept finding each other, no matter what had been taken or hidden or erased. Everything had a purpose, Augustine reminded herself. The universe had a plan. She just needed to listen to it.

Slowly, Augustine stepped closer, her gaze never leaving the key in his hand. “Give it to me,” she said softly.

Their fingers brushed as she accepted it, her hand tingling at his touch, the feeling warm and anticipatory. Once again, Augustine marvelled at how right Theo’s skin felt against hers, at how naturally her body seemed to recognize the presence of his.

The key felt cool and solid in her palm, her breath catching just slightly as she brought it up to the lock.

“If this works . . .” she murmured.

Theo stepped closer, his presence warm and steady at her back. “It will,” he said.

Augustine swallowed, then pushed the key into the lock. It fit.