She’d touched Gia’s hand last night, but it had been a struggle not to pass through her to the mattress below. Why was touching Gia different than touching a wall or lying on thebed? Why didn’t Gia’s body contain Aurora like any other physical object?
Gia’s lips parted. Fuck it. They could still kiss, in their own way. Aurora could at least ask?—
The shrill beeping of Gia’s phone cut through the air.
Gia jumped, giving a tiny yelp. “Shit. That scared me.” She shot a sheepish glance at Aurora.
“Same.” But the crushing disappointment of a missed opportunity outweighed the small fright.
Gia sat up and grabbed her phone off the charger. “Oh my god, it’s after ten. How did I sleep so late?”
Aurora should have realized they’d spent most of the morning in bed. The sun was bright outside, but time hadn’t seemed to exist before the phone went off, and not in the hopeless way it had when Aurora had been trapped in the theater.
“I got a text from Lilly,” Gia continued, tapping the phone. “The Thornfields are saying…” A crease appeared on her brow.
Aurora floated into a sitting position. “What?”
“Sorry. The Thornfields have publicly announced your death. But Lilly can’t tell if they genuinely believe it, or if they’re covering up the truth and lying to people outside the coven. There’s no indication that anyone is after the Lockwood Coven, so Trey’s presence makes Lilly distrust what your family is saying.”
“Dammit.” Aurora wanted a simple answer, but Trey being here for the Lockwoods made less and less sense the more she thought about it, even if he had seemed interested in Gia. Something else occurred to her. “If my coven knows I’m suspending my body while my soul is elsewhere, and they’re telling people I died, what are they going to do when I wake up?”
Gia glanced up, a grim expression stealing all the softness from her features. “It wouldn’t matter if they don’t plan on anyone outside the coven seeing you again.”
Trapped even more thoroughly than before. Her coven could also be planning to kill her if she ever woke up, but she couldn’t say that out loud. A stone dropped deep in Aurora’s soul, threatening to drag her to the darkest depths.
“We won’t let them cut you off from the world,” Gia said, a hint of steel entering her tone. “And who knows? They could very well believe you died, and won’t even notice when your body disappears from the crypt.”
Aurora swallowed her dread, focusing instead on Gia’s sweet determination. “Here’s to hoping.”
Gia flashed a reassuring smile. “Lilly said she’s still looking into it. I’ll reply with a thanks, unless you need me to add anything else?”
“No, all good. Thanks for checking.”
Gia shrugged. “I don’t mind being your ghost secretary.”
Aurora grinned, grateful Gia could so effortlessly give her a reason to.
She set the phone aside. “Speaking of Trey, has he returned? Maybe we were all wrong about why he was here.”
“Um.” Aurora should have checked hours ago. “I’ll go see.” She quickly zoomed out of the room.
Fuck, she’d been completely distracted. They’d know if someone had messed with Lilly’s protective ward, but Aurora needed to be proactive, not sit around watching Gia sleep like a weirdo.
She turned invisible and looked out the window, scanning the street. A few people were out and about, but no one she recognized, and none of them seemed to be lurking. No trace of Trey, either.
It was too much to hope that Trey and her coven had given up on whatever they’d been doing, or that they’d been completely wrong about why he was here, as Gia had suggested. Was the absence of loitering Thornfields a positivedevelopment or a brief reprieve while something worse brewed?
The sound of a sink running caught Aurora’s attention.
A few minutes later, the water shut off, and Gia emerged from the bedroom, heading for the kitchen. “Is he there?”
Aurora let her invisibility drop. “No. And I don’t see anyone else suspicious hanging around.”
“That’s a relief.” Gia cut a slice of bread and popped it in the toaster.
“Maybe.” Aurora only felt more certain that the absence was ominous. “We should head out and get anything you need. Maybe think about staying somewhere else.”
Gia opened a jar of jam, lid popping. “Like where?”
