Page 80 of If I Stopped Haunting You

“Neil, where are you going?”

“I’m going to look.”

He flexed his fingers as he neared the door. Why he kept running toward things in this castle instead of away, he’d never understand. It probably had something to do with the writerly urge toknow,to experience things in order to write about them. Whatever it was, it was foolish.

Neil reached for the doorknob and turned it slowly, wincing as the hinges squealed. He looked at Penelope as he swung the door open. After hesitating, she nodded, hands clasped tight in her lap.

He peered down the hall.

“Hello?” he called.

There was no one there.

He stepped out into the hall, leaving the door to Penelope’s room open wide behind him. This reminded Neil too much of the night before, of the thing slithering through the halls and that wretched, rotting stench filling the space.

Neil heard it again, that same clatter, this time coming from his room.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

But they’d seen Georgina. They’d seen and heard and smelled so many things since coming to the castle, so what was another door after all the things they’d already experienced? He crossed to open the door to his room but paused, hand on the knob.

“Penelope,” he started, turning back to her.

He froze.

Her door was still open, and she was seated on her bed, but a young man stood on the threshold of her room. He couldn’t be much older than Neil, his dark hair combed back, face freshly shaven. He was dressed in trousers, his ironed white shirt open at the collar, suspenders hanging down his hips. A black jacket was slung over his arm, as if he’d been on his way to retiring for the night.

He was so young.

He was so dead.

And transparent.

“Neil?”

Penelope stood from the bed, her eyes locked on the young man.

Ghost,she mouthed.

I know,Neil mouthed back.

Yes, Penelope, this is indeed a ghost.

Neil took a step toward the ghost, trying to motion to Penelope with his eyes. She nodded, as if understanding. But understand, shedid not. Neil watched in horror as Penelope crept around the bed and picked up her boot from the floor.

No,Neil mouthed, waving his hands wildly.

It was too late. She chucked it at the ghost. Neil wasn’t certain what she’d thought or how she came to that conclusion, but there was no turning back time.

He felt his life flash before his eyes. Neil knew all too well that she had a powerful throw and good aim, but alas, ghosts were ghosts. The boot sailed right through the ghost. Neil could have guessed it would happen, but still, he’d hoped it would land, that the man walking from her bedroom would have a corporeal body. As the boot hurtled toward him, the young man disappeared, there one second and gone the next, leaving behind no trace.

But the boot did not stop.

No, the boot continued its trajectory. Neil thought to duck, to do anything to stop it from coming, but he froze, and the heel of Penelope Skinner’s boot crashed into his face.

His head snapped back from the impact, sending him stumbling a few steps as his hands flew to his nose.

“Oh god,” he whimpered, dropping to the floor.