Page 27 of Ghoul Me, Maybe
“You always climb rooftops when reality starts unraveling?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Used to do it when I was a kid. Pretend the town wasn’t swallowing me whole.”
“And now?”
“Now I do it when the ghost of a dead sea captain drops glowing in my living room and we form a bloodless blood pact.”
I smirk. “Fair.”
She leans back on her elbows, eyes scanning the stars. The ocean wind tugs her hair loose from its messy braid. She’s quiet for a minute. Long enough that I almost forget she’s here. Long enough that the fog can’t quite reach us.
Then she says, “You ever think you were supposed to die?”
I glance at her. “I did die.”
“Yeah, but like…die and stay dead.No magic. No relic. No curses.”
I think about it.
“No,” I say finally. “Even in death, I waited for something.”
“God,” she mutters, almost smiling. “You’re exhausting.”
“You’re the one who brought me back.”
She nudges me with her foot. I feel it. It’s light, like mist pressure—but it’sthere.
“I didn’t believe in ghosts,” she says, softer now. “Not really. Not like this. Not… you.”
I glance down at the mug. “And now?”
She sighs. “Now I believe in too much.”
That silence comes again, more comfortable this time.
I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “You believe in second chances?”
She doesn’t answer right away.
But when she does, it’s not sarcastic.
“Not for me,” she says. “But maybe for you.”
And something in my chest tightens that hasn’t felt real in decades.
CHAPTER 11
SIENNA
I’m not a morning person. Never have been.
But there’s something about waking up to find a ghost sitting cross-legged on your kitchen counter like a damn pirate Buddha that kickstarts your day faster than caffeine ever could.
“You know,” I grumble, squinting against the sunrise filtering through my blinds, “some people knock.”
Elias doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just sits there with that brooding storm-on-the-horizon expression he wears like a tailored coat.
“I remembered something,” he says.
