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I saw it there on his face.

The shock.

The hurt.

The betrayal.

It was probably just seconds.

It felt like years.

Then, quietly, like a shocked inhale of breath, “Maggie?”

The crowd went silent.

My heart did as well.

So much so that when Silas shot to his feet, overturning his chair, the sound made everyone jolt.

Then there was nothing but his hollow footsteps as he stormed off the stage.

And the hollow echo in my chest where my heart once was.

CHAPTER THIRTY

[ “WE INVESTIGATED THE house. It’s not haunted; you’re just not over her.”

— Spectral Detectives - Episode 59]

Silas

Maggie?

Madison was… Maggie?

The realization didn’t land all at once. It collapsed, everything folding in on itself.

I was a fool.

There had been moments—too many, in hindsight—when her voice snared on something in my memory. A flicker of recognition I brushed off; we were too busy arguing, too busy pushing at each other’s buttons.

Too busy enjoying it.

That was the worst part.

I’d enjoyed every moment of it.

Each well-crafted barb, every snort of disbelief, each soft repetition of my name, the way her belief made me want to believe too.

It all made perfect, awful sense now. Why Madison’s voice got under my skin, why our late-night debates felt less like battles and more like something dangerously close to connection.

And why Maggie did the same exact thing.

It wasn’t a coincidence.

It was the same damn woman.

The same woman I’d been sparring with, sparking with, and letting myself—what? Trust? Want? Change my mind for?