Page 15 of Ghostly

He sighed, took them off, and pointedly tucked them into the collar of his shirt. “So, ghost section?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed even more. She hadn’t recognized him, had she? “Over there,” she practically barked, pointed to what could be three different shelves, and turned her attention to an ancient computer in front of her.

Go figure. They did have a section on ghosts.

***

Ida paced the living room. She’d usually go to the music box to calm down, but then she wouldn’t know when Gabriel returned—and she wanted to be there when he got back with the book.

Not to mention, her entire immaterial body was currently too rattled at the prospect of moving on to enjoy the music box. It was the good kind of nervousness, though; she wanted to leave. She didn’t know this two days ago, but now, it made perfect sense. She was already halfway to the great beyond; perhaps soon, she could join the souls there. She’d never have to worry about being lonely again. Dying was natural. Ghosts weren’t.

A car pulled up outside. Footsteps—the lock turning in the door—and Gabriel rushed in, clutching something under his arm.

“Did you get it?”

“You’re one lucky ghost.” He raised the book, then plopped it on the coffee table.

He found it. He actually, truly found it, and it was beautiful. A slim volume bound in deep purple leather, with nothing on the cover except an outline of a golden rhombus. Just as she remembered.

Gabriel sat down with the book in his lap. “I think I know what you’re looking for.” He leafed through the yellowed pages, firmer than she’d imagined. The book wasn’t very old; the wear may have been merely from it sitting in a library for decades. Even doing nothing could have an effect on an object… or a person.

“Here.” The spread had print only on the right side. At the top of the page was a title,The Passing Through Contract, with a line under it. Ida read eagerly.

If a ghostly individual binds to this contract and fulfills its conditionsto the letter, they will be allowed to pass through to The Great Beyond andlive in peace forevermore.

“If you ask me, it smells fishy,” Gabriel said. “Like they’re trying to sell you something.”

“Yes, peace.”

“Ida…”

“I’m already dead. What could possibly happen to me that’s worse?”

Gabriel’s eyes met hers, a brief streak of softness passing through. Caught in an awkward moment where, for the first time in days, she didn’t know what to say, she lowered her gaze to the book instead.

“Alright, here are the conditions.” Her voice came out slightly cracky, and she cleared her throat. “Enlighten someone… oh, these are tasks. Good, I can do that. I probably just have to tell you something you don’t know.Warm up. I suppose you can light a fire and I’ll go stand by it.Forgive.” She stumbled over the last word. Forgiveness. She’d been through that once. Of her family, of herself. She thought back then it would finally set her free.

Maybe Gabriel was right to not trust this book.

“Ida? Is something wrong?”

She looked at Gabriel and, when she couldn’t stand maintaining eye contact, turned her attention back to the contract. That’s when she saw the last condition.

Fix something broken.

“Nothing. It’s stupid. It won’t work.”

Gabriel must’ve been trying hard to go along with this, because she’d practically laid a path for him to say “I told you so,” and yet, he didn’t. “Why would you think that?”

“Fix something broken. Like, a machine? I can’t do that. I can touch objects if I apply force, but I can’t fix them. That’s precision work. If anything, we ghosts break things.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that is what ghosts usually do.” Gabriel tapped his chin. “The tasks are the opposite. Enlighten someone—because ghosts, in the stories, would turn off lights. Warm up—because you’re associated with cold. Forgive—because ghosts are driven by revenge.”

Ida flinched, but Gabriel was too engulfed in his theory to notice.

“And fix something broken, because you usually break stuff. It’s clever, prank or not.”

“I’m glad you find it amusing.” She stood, passed through the coffee table, and faced the bookshelf. “Why would they even do that? Give youhope and take it away by making the conditions impossible to fulfill? I bet I can’t warm up, either. I don’t feel warmth or cold. It’s not fair.”