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Hope to hear from you,

Adriana

I handed the note to Ryan to read, smiling from ear to ear. The ghosts gathered around his back to read over his shoulder too.

I pulled out the cash and realised that, while not a huge amount, it could be enough to do something to the retreat room.

“See!” Ryan said after he finished reading. “I’ll bet you anything there are plenty of people who love scary shit and would kill to come here and stay the night.”

I looked up at him, more hopeful than ever. “You think so?”

“Yeah, why not? You see it all the time on those shows. Most Haunted Hotel and all that. People will pay to get the piss scared out of them. You just need to market it right.”

“And how would you do that?”

“Redo the listing, post on socials, get the word out there in the right circles. You’ll have people showing up in no time to survive a night at the Last Resort.”

“I don’t want them turning up just to be scared. All my friends are nice. And Popty hates it when people run screaming from him; he just wants to help.” I shook my head.

“Then why don’t you invite ghost-friendly people instead?”

“How would we know if they were ghost friendly or not?”

“Put an ad out, advertise yourself like one of those mediums. Loads of people swear they have ghosts attached to an object or themselves and want to talk to them or help them move on. Psychics and mediums make a living out of that—hell, even Gerald does—so why can’t you tap into the market too?”

I lost a breath. “You think I can do that?”

“We have a plan now. We know how to deal with these things when they show up. It’ll be even easier to control if they’re booked in advance and not just dropping in whenever they please, no? We can tell the rest of them to make a fucking reservation if they want to kill us.”

I laughed and smiled, feeling a little light-headed and giddy. “You really think that could work?”

“We’ll make it work. You can even make new pamphlets.”

I hopped up and pressed a kiss to his mouth, unable to express my joy any other way. “When can we start?”

“Gather the troops. It’s time for a team meeting.”

“A squad meeting,” I corrected.

Bronwyn stared at Ryan for a long moment. “And you believe this will be successful?”

“If everyone is willing to do their part, I think there’s a niche market for it.”

“A niche market for spending a holiday exorcising your dead grandma?” Harri asked, nose wrinkled.

“Or the entity that attached itself to you when you did that stupid dare and said Bloody Mary in the mirror three times when you were a kid,” Ryan explained. “The possibilities are endless.”

“It’s…not a bad idea,” Andrew said. “But isn’t this a conflict of interest for you? Owain offering this is direct competition to the ExorSquad.”

I hadn’t even thought of that, so wrapped up in how amazing the idea was. All our eyes turned his way.

He crossed his arms casually. “Let me handle that.”

I frowned and placed a hand on his bicep. “I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

“Love, you’ve been nothing but trouble since I walked through that door.” He pinched my bum cheekily. “I like trouble. I’ve been in trouble my whole life—just ask my mum.”

“I’d believe that.” Bronwyn snorted. “What credentials do you have to help with this business, young man?”