Page 52 of Ghoul Me, Maybe

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“No,” she cuts me off. “Don’t say anything unless it’s real. Unless it’syou.Not the part of you trying to play noble. Not the ghost.You.”

I don’t move.

I want to.

Gods, Iacheto reach for her. To say something—anything—that undoes the pain I just painted all over her face. But I don’t.

Because I’m a coward.

And she deserves someone braver.

She nods once. Just once. Then turns and walks away.

She doesn’t look back.

And I let her go.

Because that’s what Iam.

A man already dead.

I don’t go home.

There’s nothing left in that crumbling cottage but salt-stained regrets and half-remembered dreams that belong to someone else.

So I walk.

Down the cliffs. Through the fog. Past the old stones Jonas once marked with runes that hum low when I get too close. The sea’s restless tonight. And something’s wrong.

Off.

It’s not just the wind.

It’s theabsenceof something.

Ofher.

It hits me all at once—like I’ve swallowed a lead anchor.

She’s gone.

I spin on my heel and move. Fast. Feet hitting the sand so hard they leave dents. I burst into Mira’s shop, ignoring the startled crash of a jar somewhere behind the counter.

“She’s not answering,” Mira says before I even open my mouth. Her eyes are sharp. Afraid. “She left an hour ago. Said she was done waiting.”

“Where?”

“Where do youthink?”

I don’t say another word.

I turn and run.

The shoreline’s half-shrouded by mist by the time I get there.

Waves slam against the jagged teeth of the cove like they’re trying to crack the world open. The moon’s playing coy—ducking behind clouds like it doesn’t want to see what’s about to happen.

And there she is.

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