Epilogue
The crimson poppies bloomed early around the Hawthorne estate’s lake.
No one could explain it—they were early summer flowers, but seemingly unfazed by the nightly frost and icy rain, they sprang up around the rubble and muck of where the tomb had collapsed anyway, blanketing the shore in a wave of glossy red right as the first chill of winter started to creep in.
Sitting in the Hawthorne séance room, Miles swore he could smell their bitter, smoky scent through the cracked windows when the wind blew hard enough.
“I’m ready,” Emily announced. “Everyone hold hands.”
Once everyone was connected around the table, Emily let out a deep breath. The stubby tealight candles flickered, and the thick velvet curtains swayed gently.
“We call to the spirit world, seeking out Blake, the… bus ghost. If you can hear me, please come forward. Blake, you came here once before to help—”
He appeared over the middle of the table with a friendly wave. “What’s up? I didn’t think I’d hear from you guys.” He saw Gabriel and broke out in a wide grin. “Hey, you found your friend! I told you I saw him.”
“Yeah, you were a huge help,” Miles told him. “Thanks again.”
He nudged Gabriel, who was looking a little shell-shocked. His gaze flitted from Blake’s oversized polo and baggy jeans to his outrageously yellow frosted tips. “Yes, thank you. It was”—he spotted the puka shell necklace and nearly broke, his lips twitching—“very kind of you to assist them.”
Blake waved him off. “No problem, man. So what can I do for you guys? Lose another friend?”
“Actually,” Charlee said, “we’re here to help you out this time. Unless you’ve changed your mind about the bus since we last saw you.”
He squinted in confusion.
“We want to help you move on,” Miles clarified. “If you’re ready.”
Blake’s excitement was so intense, it rattled the paintings on the walls and swung open the doors of the curio cabinet behind Emily. “You have no idea. Heaven, hell, I don’t care, as long as it doesn’t have purple seats and smell like feet funk.”
The ritual didn’t take long, and Miles had the right supplies this time, so there was no need to raid the kitchen. Blake gifted them one last goofy grin before blipping out, leaving behind the scent of too-strong cologne.
Miles hoped wherever he went, he had access to all the early 2000s horror movies he wanted.
“That should give this room some much-needed good mojo,” Emily noted, blowing out the candles and gathering her crystals. Her dangly star earrings bounced around as she packed. “And Blake a much-needed rest.”
“You didn’t tell me he was a member of the Backstreet Boys,” Gabriel murmured to Miles.
He bit back a snicker. “I guess I forgot you were such a fan. Want me to summon him back so you can get an autograph?”
That earned him an elbow to the ribs.
They cleaned up, setting the séance room back to how it’d been, pushing the chairs in and straightening the crooked paintings.
Gabriel lingered, meticulously adjusting items in his mom’s curio cabinet—a silver pocket watch, pinned butterflies, and an engraved bell, all of which he’d explained were family heirlooms—with careful fingers.
“I can give you a ride,” Charlee offered Emily as they all slipped out of the room to give Gabriel space. His eyes were sad as he fixed Felicity’s collection. “I need to head out soon anyway.”
“That’d be great, thanks. Mind dropping me off at school? I’ve got practice.”
“Sure, I’ll grab Nadia.” They’d ventured down into the basement at Gabriel’s insistence in search of items for their shop.
As Charlee walked away, Miles asked Emily, “Your mom finally made you pick between the psychic life and soccer, then?” She’d been coming and going, but it felt like they hadn’t had a moment to stop and catch up.
Things had been chaotic in the weeks since they’d crawled their way out of the tunnels, soaked and shivering, clinging to each other with everything they had left.
Their worlds had changed over the course of a night.
“Nope.” She zipped her pink puffer up with a cheeky smile. “I decided there’s no reason I can’t have both.”
It was such a simple, obvious answer—Emily’s light shone too bright to be fixed on only one thing—but Miles understood why it hadn’t occurred to either of them. This life felt like it left no room for anything else. He’d never stopped to consider otherwise.
“I love soccer,” she continued, “but being there for you guys that night in the tomb, holding my own, helping Rosalie and Jocelyn find peace… I want to be able to do that too.”
“And your mom, she’s okay with that?”
She shrugged, tossing her long hair over her shoulder.
“She’s going to have to be. I’m not going to let anyone tell me who to be or what I get to do.
She thinks I can’t find a balance and do both, so I’m just going to prove her wrong.
” Studying him knowingly, she gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Something to think about, yeah?”
Charlee and Nadia emerged from the hallway, a bulging bag over Nadia’s shoulder. “Hey. Sounds like we’re heading out. I snagged a few things down there I’m going to look into.”
“I’ll tell Gabriel. Whatever you took, I’m sure it’ll do better in your shop than gathering dust in the basement.”
They said their goodbyes, Miles promising Emily he’d be at her game next weekend, rain or shine, and pulling Charlee in for a lingering hug. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
She was going to visit her mom today.
After the tomb, Aunt Robin had a rough few days detoxing from the dark magic and recovering from the toll it had taken on her body, but her mind still needed healing.
As soon as she could move, she’d rented a little cabin an hour away for the foreseeable future.
Amy and Jenna had forgiven her—it was a hard first lesson on possession, but they understood that their aunt hadn’t been in control.
She just hadn’t figured out how to forgive herself.
Miles’s parents hadn’t said it out loud, but he knew they were relieved she was taking space. Even after being reassured she’d been possessed, they were reluctant to let her be around the girls. It would take work to rebuild that trust.
Charlee hadn’t been to see her yet, but they’d spoken on the phone a few times. She called it tentative progress at best, and insisted she wasn’t getting her hopes up, but Miles thought it was going well. They were going to visit Uncle Shaun’s grave together next weekend.
“Nah,” Charlee mumbled into his collar. “Nadia’s fully committed to being my buffer.”
“I know,” Nadia teased. “You’re shocked that I’m both attractive and useful. What can I say? I’m the full package.”
Charlee snorted, pulling away. “Plus, we’ve got an escape plan ready if we need one.”
That made Nadia grin wickedly. “I’ll give you a hint: sudden allergic reaction.”
It was a shame Miles wouldn’t be around to see that undoubtedly dramatic performance.
He walked them to the front door, a rush of exhaustion washing over him. He wasn’t cut out for all this constant socializing—another day of it, and he was going to start wishing he was back at work digging up corpses.
When he turned around, Gabriel was sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Miles hadn’t heard him slip out of the séance room.
“Hey.” He went and joined him, soaking in the quiet. “Everything good?”
“Yes.” Gabriel tugged him closer, until they were pressed against each other. His hand found the front of Miles’s shirt, right where he’d been stabbed. There was no scar, but he’d memorized the spot. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Fine.” He’d been in mint condition since Rosalie healed him, but it didn’t stop Gabriel from worrying. “Tired. Glad this place is starting to empty out a bit, if I’m being honest.”
“I can think of one guest in particular who overstayed their welcome,” Gabriel muttered.
When the news that Felicity was gone started to spread, their father had come from Seattle.
He was a thin, angular man with brown hair and a perpetual frown.
Miles hadn’t seen much of him—aside from a few withering glances and some judgmental sniffing.
He’d made it clear he had zero interest in moving back to the Hawthorne estate or taking care of his children.
The only person who liked him less than Miles was his own dad, who seemed genuinely flabbergasted and distraught at the parental apathy he was witnessing.
Gabriel insisted it was for the best, that his father was a bastard and would only make their lives miserable again.
And with Edmund now awake and over eighteen, he enthusiastically—if a little apprehensively—agreed to step into the role of guardian.
After a long discussion with Bram, Edmund’s first act as step-in-parent was to start the process of enrolling him in the local public school.
Their father had left early this morning without a backward glance, peeling out of the driveway in his stupid fancy Corvette that screamed midlife crisis. Asshole.
“He won’t be missed.” Miles yawned as Gabriel nestled against him, his head on Miles’s shoulder. He could smell the eucalyptus shampoo Charlee had gotten Gabriel hooked on. “Think we could get away with skipping school tomorrow and just sleeping all day?”
“No. And it’s my first day back. I promised Edmund I’d be on my best behavior.”
“He’ll let you put it off a little longer if you ask.”
Everyone had told Gabriel he should take more time off before going back.
School wasn’t going anywhere, and now that the whole town knew Felicity Hawthorne had passed away under mysterious circumstances, the stares and whispers were going to be back in full force.
But Gabriel insisted he was ready, that he wanted things to start going back to normal. To keep busy.
“Why would I do that when I’m so excited to go back?” he asked dryly. “How I’ve missed the crowded hallways, inane gossip, and pointless busywork.”