Page 74 of Ghostly

“Could you please filter that? And put exactly eight drops in there.” She pointed to the jar.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Love potion?”

Oh, if she could blush. “I found the recipe in the ghostly book. It’s a perfume of sorts.”

“That book keeps surprising me.”

“It’s not just a perfume. It…” She wrung her hands. “If it works, it’s supposed tostickto the ghost.”

Gabriel’s eyebrow remained raised. “Is that ghostly lingo?”

“No, I think it literally means I can use it. I can smell like something.” Couldn’t he understand how much this would mean? “I haven’t been able to use anything in so long. I’m stuck with this hair, these clothes”—that brown velvet wasn’t fetching on her, she was sure—“with displaying nochanges, not tasting, smelling, feeling anything, except some random feelings I may pick up from haunting an object.”

“Then perfume it is.” Gabriel executed a tiny bow of his head. “What do I do?”

She guided him through the rest of the procedure and waited for the mix to cool as Gabriel fetched a spray bottle. “It says it’s ready when it cools down,” she said. “Shall we try it? See if it works?”

“I spray it? On you?”

“Yes, dummy. That’s how perfumes work.”

Gabriel sprayed once, into the approximate direction of her neck.

“Maybe a bit more?”

One, two, three—head, hair, torso. “I can’t tell if it stuck to you, or I’m just smelling the massive cloud of perfume I unleashed,” he said.

“Wait.” She zoomed past him to the other side of the kitchen. “How about here?”

Gabriel approached, sniffing intently. “Maybe. Yes, I think so.”

“Or maybe we’re still too close to ground zero.” She retreated further, into the living room. “Now?”

He followed. “I think I can smell you.”

She glided back once again, ending between the sofa and the bookcase.

“What is this?” Gabriel sniffled more as he drew near. “Sweet, like a flower, but then also like a citrus? And, at the risk of sounding strange—creamy?”

She smiled. “Orange blossom. It’s in the perfume.” She’d never smelled it herself, but it sounded pleasant. “Do you like it?”

Gabriel came even closer, standing just short of colliding with her. “It’s beautiful.”

The way he stared at her, she almost dared to imagine he was talking about her, not the fragrance. She wished he’d have finished that description earlier.

What else did he see when he looked at her?

Her fingers tingled. Wait, tingled? How was that possible? She raised her hand and wiggled them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Her voice was full of wonder. “I think the perfume might… well, I can feel my fingers. Not properly, but a little.” She laughed. “Wait!”

She popped into the piece of paper with her name on it, and back out.

“Hold that,” she told Gabriel. “And smell it.”

He did so.