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If she can see the ghost—who promptly rolls her eyes—it doesn’t show.
“Um…” I clear my throat and shake my head. “No one?”
“All right…”
The moment she’s gone, I shut the door and turn my attention back to the ghost. “I’ll ask him, okay? That’s all I can do.”
“Fine. Whatever. He’ll probably say no.”
“You don’t know that. Sterling is usually willing to hear people out.”
“Don’t act like you know him better than I do.”
But I kind of do, don’t I? She knew Sterling as a teenager, but I love the person he’s become. Dependable. Caring. A little secretive, sure, but he eventually learns to do and say the right thing.
He will in this case, too. Wendy, as frustrating as she may be, deserves closure. Maybe he can give it.
I wet my lips, considering. “Will he be able to see you like this?”
“I don’t know. I know he can see like, spirits and when someone is going to die, but he’s never been able to see me.” Her expression drops.
I hover a hand over her shoulder. “Maybe he wasn’t ready to start looking.”
But I think he is now.
And I am, too.
Her expression grows stony, and she turns away, looking out the window as if she’ll find him tending to the frosty grass outside. “I didn’t mean to hurt Luke. I was just… trying to get someone to hear me.”
I close my eyes and nod. “I know.”
For some reason, I believe her. Would that change my mother’s mind? Would that make it safe to stay? I’m not so sure.
I stare at the spell that started it all—the summoning spell. The same ingredients. The easy enchantment.
But the person I’m calling to now is farther than Wendy.
I clear my throat and repeat the words I’ve already said twice: “Orion Seren,” I say, forcing power into my voice. “If you have passed to the other side, be at peace. If you are here, let me see.” I choke out a sob as I say my father’s name. “Orion, come to me.”
I repeat his name, again and again, tears rolling down my face.
“Please.” I whimper. “Why won’t you come?”
There’s no crackle of magic. There’s no wailing or crying, certainly no laughter. No breeze sweeps through the room. If my father is a ghost, he isn’t choosing to haunt me, and I’m strangely offended…
No. I’m hurt.
There I stay, in a ball on my bedroom floor, until a pair of shoes appear and a person the shoes belong to. Out of everyone, it had to be Leo.
He looks around the ingredients and lets out a soft sigh, sitting on the floor with me. “He’s gone. Passed over already. Trust me.”
“How do you—”
“Do you think you’re the first person to try this?” He gestures vaguely. “I hired a medium a week after he kicked the bucket. He wouldn’t answer her, so he was either already gone or he doesn’t have anything to say.”
I sit up and wipe my tears. “Weirdly, that makes me feel better. At least I’m not totally useless at my new magic.”
“New magic?”
