Page 7 of Ghoul Me, Maybe
At where he stood.
At where I stood.
At what the hell I’m supposed to do now.
I turn back toward the water, trying to convince myself I imagined the whole thing. That my brain, steeped in too much sea air and not enough therapy, conjured a gothic hallucination. That it wasn’t real.
But the fog shifts again.
And he’s there.
Not farther out now—but closer.
Half-shadow, half-man. Eyes locked on mine with a weight that pins me in place. The wind carries a voice to me—barely louder than the waves but sharp enough to slice through every logical excuse I’ve got lined up.
“Sienna.”
Just that.
My name, spoken like a vow.
My stomach drops. No. No, no, no. He shouldn’t know my name. Hell,Ibarely belong here anymore. I’m not important. I’m not?—
“Sienna,” he says again, and this time, the sound isn't in the air. It'sin me.
I don’t think. Irun.
Sprint off the beach like hell itself opened up behind me. My boots slip on seaweed, and I nearly face-plant into a tide pool, but I don’t stop. I don’t stop until I’m halfway up the cliff trail, lungs screaming, heart punching at my ribs like it’s trying to escape too.
Only then do I look back.
The beach is empty.
The wreck sits in silence.
And the fog is as thick as ever.
CHAPTER 4
ELIAS
Ishould’ve stayed on the shore.
That’s the thought rolling around my skull as I stalk the cobbled path behind her, a shadow too stubborn to fade.
She walks fast, shoulders tight, muttering to herself with the kind of anger only fear can dress up as bravado. I stay a dozen paces back, close enough to feel the thread tying us together—thin, brittle, but humming like a live wire.
I can’t explain it. Don’t want to.
But when she bolted from Wrecker’s Bay, the part of me that’s stillmanrose up and followed. The sea didn’t pull me back. The wreck didn’t groan. The tide let me go—for now.
Lowtide Bluffs isn’t how I remember it. Not really.
The town’s grown and shrunk in strange ways. Brick where there used to be stone. Neon signs flickering above windows. Sounds I don’t recognize—buzzing, beeping, a metallic rhythm like a heartbeat that’s forgotten how to sleep.
People pass by her without seeing me. It used to be a curse. Now it’s a mercy.
Because I’m not ready for anyone but her.
