Page 102 of If I Stopped Haunting You

“Which is why you’re still here,” Neil whispered.

“I had begun to forget who I was and why I was here. No one has spoken my name in some time,” she said wistfully. “No one remembers me, yet I have spent two hundred years making up for the mistakes of my life.” Georgina looked between Penelope and Neil. “Do not make the same mistakes as us.”

To their left, the door screeched open, and the man from before appeared, his jacket still slung over his arm. Now that Neil could see him more clearly, he saw the slight lines around his mouth, the beginning of age in the crow’s feet sprouting from the corners of his eyes, and the slight limp in his walk. Archie smiled at Georgina, a look of pure adoration, of love.

“Are you going to leave now?” Penelope asked quietly, glancing between the two. “Now that you remember?”

Georgina smiled, turning back to Archie. “I believe we have some unfinished business, first.”

“And then you’ll…” Penelope mimed floating away, and Neil caught her hands, pressing them to her sides.

“That might be a sensitive topic,” he said.

“I don’t know how these things work,” she shot back as they inched quietly out of the room. “Where’s that clairvoyant from Craigslist when you need her?”

Ghost Archie reached for Ghost Georgina, their hands tangling. Neil thought it was almost sweet. That was until they tugged themselves together, hands and lips reaching for one another, ghostly breaths mingling as they opened their mouths wide for a passionate kiss.

“I did not know that was even possible,” Penelope said.

Neil coughed as the room heated up. “I think we better get going,” he said, nudging Penelope toward the door.

“Did it get hot in there?” she asked as Georgina flicked her wrist and the door slammed shut behind them.

“I guess ghosts can change temperatures in both directions.”

They stopped on the landing, and Penelope gripped the banister, staring down at the large portrait of Georgina, and Neil followed her gaze. Already, it had changed. There were no tears on the canvas, and Georgina’s features had softened into that of a kind young woman. The black, ink-like substance was gone, vanished, as if nothing had ever been wrong. Neil’s gaze slid from the painting to Penelope. Her braid had come undone some time ago, her messy waves cascading around her face as she peered down at the foyer, and Neil caught a strand between his fingers.

“I want to love someone so much that I’m willing to fuck them in front of some weird, nosy humans,” she said, turning to grin up at Neil.

He cleared his throat and pressed a hand to his chest, his heartbeat speeding up as he met those familiar stormy eyes.

“I mean, Icouldmake that happen, but that sounds like some messy business.”

She inched closer, gripping his shirt in her fists. “I mean,sexis a messy business.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said as he bent closer.

Penelope snorted, gently guiding him down, her kiss light.

“Should we tell the others?” she whispered against his lips.

“Let’s make them suffer for a minute longer,” he said, turning to press her against the wall, his most favorite spot in the whole castle.

Penelope’s lips curved up into a coy smile. “I have a better idea.”

Chapter 31

PEN

Practically shaking, Pen took the stairs two at a time, breath coming out in great, wheezing gasps. She hopped down the last few steps, rolling on her ankle. Excruciating pain shot up her leg, and she half jogged, half hopped toward the kitchen, crashing into the side wall as she tried to steady herself.

Daniela was seated at the kitchen table, gesturing to her phone with sharp, angry movements. “I have no signal!” she yelled.

Pen stopped in the hall, watching Daniela silently for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but Laszlo rushed in past her, nearly sending her spinning. Pen caught herself on the entry, teeth grinding.

Laszlo stopped in the kitchen, hands on his hips as he looked between them with wide, worried eyes. “The van won’t start,” he panted. “Neil was right, we’re goingnowhere.” His voice was laced with panic. “And Fanny won’t come in. She refuses to enter the castle again. Silly woman thinks there’s something cursed about this place. Superstitious, if you ask me.”

“I can hear ye!” Fanny said from the mudroom. “And the castle is haunted, nay, cursed! Did ye even listen to my opening tour?”