Chapter 33
One Month Later
As it turns out, living in a haunted house isn’t always a bad thing.
The Harlow Homestead has been quiet since we freed Mercy’s spirit. No more construction hiccups or weird shadows. No more cold spots. And thanks to the house Theo built him, Dale seems happy to remain on the porch, so no more home intruders of any kind.
Except for Harmony, but she’s a pretty chill ghost.
I’d read Mercy’s diaries enough to know as soon as the spirit started speaking during the séance that it couldn’t be Mercy.
Mercy Harlow had been the one who became obsessed with the idea of magic.
She’d been sure it could fix everything from her brother’s mischief to her friendship with Harmony.
Her writing never mentioned that kiss, or why Harmony rejected her, and since I couldn’t hear their argument in their memories, I’ll never know.
I can’t help but wonder if it was simply that Harmony didn’t feel the same.
Or if she was too afraid of the things that made her different to accept them.
Maybe that’s why Harmony’s still hanging around. She hasn’t resolved her own unfinished business yet.
She mostly occupies the bedroom with the giant closet. She comes and goes as she pleases, and respects my privacy, though sometimes she still moves my dolls around like she’s teasing me.
I’ve been forced to grow my library of books for us to communicate, since, as it turns out, ghosts can’t speak across the veil. Not even with Matt’s handy-dandy spirit box, though he has tried so hard to get it to work with Harmony.
I asked Theo if he wanted to try to talk to Harmony about his mom, but he said no. “You were right,” he said, running his fingers over his tattoo. “All that matters is what I believe.”
Loud fits of yelling and clanging drift from the front yard into the open windows of my new bedroom as Mr. Hargrave and his crew pack up the last of their tools and toss materials in the dumpster.
Theo’s supposed to be helping but of course he’s up here with me.
We’re both lying on our stomachs on my bed, looking at my laptop. Classes start in two days and we’re trying to sync our schedules so we can see each other as much as possible.
Music drifts lazily from the speakers, and every few minutes, Theo presses a kiss to my shoulder.
One song ends, and after a brief delay, the first chords of “Remember Me This Way” from Casper spill into the room.
Grinning at me, Theo rolls off the bed and onto his feet. He holds out a hand.
When I stare at it, he laughs. “I have it on good authority that this song is the most romantic ever.”
I slip my fingers into his and let him pull me from the bed and draw me into his arms. Then we dance slowly, forehead to forehead, just like Casper and Kat.
“If you ask if you can keep me,” I whisper, “I will spontaneously combust.”
Those moss-green eyes stare deeply into mine. “What if I say I love you instead.”
For just a moment, the world crystallizes around us. Time freezes and there is nothing but me, and him, and his arms around me, and this song’s rhythm dancing through us.
And for as much as I am still learning about relationships and all that goes with them, I have no doubt that I love Theo too.
And I swear, as I tell him that, that our feet float a little off the ground.
Just for a second.