Page 137 of She Haunts Me Still

Arden’s eyes turn round with understanding.The Blood Angel.“No one will ever find it now.”

“I’m starving,” Raf cuts in, fingers entwined with Arden’s. “Dinner is about to start.”

“We have to wait for Saskia,” Arden says, craning her neck. “Have you seen her, Mal?”

Mallory frowns. “Not since the commencement ceremony…” She pauses, smiles. “I know where she is. You guys go ahead.”

She’s about to turn when she catches sight of a man lingering by the doorway, dressed casually, a gleaming watch on his wrist. Winston Hendrix. She hasn’t seen him since her first year at Shore, had no idea he was back for commencement weekend.

“Congratulations,” Hendrix says as he approaches, nodding at both Arden and Raf before glancing at Mallory. “I came by earlier this spring, saw the senior production. Welldone.” He slides his hands into his pockets. “You know, Webb, I was wrong about you. I once told you theater is not for the faint of heart. But you sure seem to have a strong one.”

He extends his hand, now holding a card.

“Give me a call after you get settled in New York.” Hendrix glances at Arden and Raf. “That goes for you both, too, and Ms. Garin.”

“New York?” Arden echoes.

Hendrix smiles. “Isn’t that where you’re going to start your theater company? You’ll need some industry support, won’t you? And perhaps a director to hire?”

Raf’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“How—how did you know we’re doing that?” Mallory adds, thinking about the nights spent poring over business plans with Arden, Raf, and Saskia, discussing budget and real estate and potential seasons. A secret, faraway dream she’s only mentioned to Penelope and—

And to Golden, during advisory meetings. Her eyes widen with understanding.

“Let’s just say,” Hendrix replies, “I keep tabs on the students I find most promising.” He nods again at Mallory. “I look forward to seeing where you go, Webb.”

She watches him leave, thoughts spinning over ivy-soaked balconies and feathers. Bittersweet memories now tinged with whispers of a promising future: an unfamiliar city, a new stage bathed in light. A small apartment she’ll share with Saskia, a narrow kitchen brimming with smells of coffee and homemade bread. Raf and Arden exchanging vows in a church downtown. The glittering ring Mallory will slip onto Saskia’s finger one day, too, promising forever.Mine,she’ll whisper, knowing it’s always been true.

Mallory says goodbye to her friends and makes her way into the Crypt, finding it nearly silent. There are no ghosts in this theater anymore, no vintage planchettes tucked beneath dusty boxes. Just painted wood and scarlet curtains.

And Saskia, sitting in a spill of gold beneath the ghost light.

“Hey, Nancy Drew,” she calls. “I needed a break from the crowd.”

Mallory approaches the stage, and for a moment allows herself to stare. The same way she stared the first time she found Saskia sitting alone in the theater, bathed in that dusty glow. Saskia is still in her graduation gown, thrown open over a button-down and trousers, white hair tumbling down her back in waves. She hasn’t cut it since that night on Mercy Island, not even a trim. The ritual didn’t affect her hair color this time, but it turned one of her eyes an icy blue, making her look even more ethereal, like she’s not meant for this world at all.

“I figured you’d be here,” Mallory says as she climbs onto the stage.

“You know me.” Saskia leans back on her hands. “Just needed a moment.”

But there’s something about the way she says it, like she’s forcing the words to come out cheerful. Mallory narrows her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Saskia doesn’t respond, fiddling with the edges of her gown. A wisp of wintery hair falls over her shoulder, obscuring her profile. And in her silence, Mallory suddenly realizes what she’s thinking about. It’s the same dark place Saskia always goes when she gets quiet like this: Penelope’s careful warning before they left Mercy Island.

That the curse was lifted, but their time together might be cut short anyway.

There’s no way of knowing what will happen,Penelope said on the boat ride back to campus that fog-drenched morning.But that’s life, isn’t it? All we have is right now.

“Sometimes,” Saskia says, staring out at the velvet seats, “I feel like I’m living my life from the outside, watching myself do the things I’m going to miss one day.” Her gaze falls. “I feel like a ghost.”

Mallory swallows. She wants to tell Saskia to stop talking, to cover her own ears.

Instead, she takes Saskia’s hand and says, “I understand.”

Because she does. She knows exactly what Saskia is saying. She’s sailed to the blurry end of her life twice, only to turn around and fight her way back. All so she could sink her hands into the earth and spend more time on land. In this world. With her.

Neither of them has to say it out loud to know the truth: She won’t come back a third time.