Page 43 of If I Stopped Haunting You

“I’ve been calling your name for a while!” Daniela tilted her head, something mischievous glinting in her warm brown eyes. “Wanna play a game?”

“What kind of game?”

Daniela winked. “Something a little different today.”

Pen needed a change of pace. She laughed and stood, stooping to grab the journal. Daniela beckoned to her, but Pen paused, squinting back up to the west wing. She had questions, and she knew without a doubt that hall had the answers, but for now, she wanted anythingbut to be alone. Being alone led to questions. Questions about this castle.

Questions about Neil Storm.

“If it’s not your usual kind of game, what kind of game is it?” she asked, hurrying down the stairs.

Daniela withdrew a hand from behind her back and launched something at Pen. It was cold, wet, and icy, and Pen gasped in surprise, staring down at the snowball she’d thrown. It soaked through her sweater and braid, and she wiped it away with a shudder, the remnants splattering on the rug.

Reluctantly, she set the journal on a table in the hall, shaking her head. “Oh, oh, you are going toregretthat.”

“Not in the castle!” Laszlo called. “And we’re due to start the next activity shortly!”

Snorting, Pen threw on her shoes and coat and followed Daniela out into the snow, where Storm was waiting.

He stood alone in the yard, already covered in snow. Pen blushed, thinking of those seconds in the library, the embers burning in his eyes. How long had she sat on those stairs? It had felt like mere minutes.

Her eyes traced over him as he wound up an arm and threw a snowball, hitting Daniela square on the cheek.

“Cheap shot!” she yelled, wiping it away.

Storm paused, an imperfectly round snowball in his hand. He turned to Pen, emerald eyes stark against the snowy backdrop. Hesitantly, he held it out.

“If I want anyone on my team, it’s you. We all know how good of an arm you have.”

Her stomach dipped as he smiled.

“No fair!” Daniela called. “We all know she’s got great aim!”

Smiling, Pen reached for the snowball, her fingers brushing his palm.

“You’ve chosen well, padawan.”

Laszlo appeared at the top of the stairs, his nose and cheeks red from the cold as he buttoned up his jacket. “There is no way in hell I’m staying in that castle on my own!” he said, hurrying down the steps.

Laughing, Pen launched the snowball at Laszlo, and her friend shrieked as bits of snow tumbled down the back of his shirt.

“No fair! I’m your ally!” he yelled, shivering as he stooped to pack some snow.

“No one is your ally when it comes to snowball fights!”

Pen reached down to pack another snowball, gasping as something cold slammed into her ass. She straightened, glancing over her shoulder and brushing snow from her pants.

“Who did that?” she demanded, eyeing them.

Daniela shook her head, motioning to Storm. “Don’t look at me.”

Laszlo and Daniela quieted as Pen turned to Storm.

“It seemed only fair after everything,” he started. He dropped the snowballs in his hands as she stalked toward him in the snow. Pen smiled as she stopped before him. “You gave me a scar. A snowball seems only fair, right?”

Quietly, Pen bent at the waist and packed another snowball, ignoring him.

“Why don’t we just call it a blank slate?” Storm asked, holding his hands out in surrender. His voice was shaky, eyes wide as he watched her.