Page 83 of Ghostly

Without words, Gabriel swept up the locket and returned to the living room, where he turned, facing them with his best prosecutor expression.

Perry followed with hunched shoulders, and Ida after him, wishing she dared to sink into the ground. “What happened with the reporter?” she asked.

Still clutching the locket, Gabriel put his hands into his pockets. “As you can imagine, she wanted to get a juicy story out of me. Apparently, some people never give up.”

“Uh.” Perry raised his hand. “What are we talking about?”

“It wasn’t a delivery man, but a reporter,” Gabriel explained. “I’d admire her for her tenacity, if it didn’t go against my agenda. The real question is, how did she find me?” His gaze swiveled to Perry.

“What?”

“You’re the only one who knows about me. Besides Ida, but it’s not like she can tell anybody.”

Ida swelled with joy—he trusted her!—and then hated herself for it.

“Man, you know I wouldn’t tell anybody!” Perry said. “You’re awesome. I’d never betray you like that.”

Gabriel continued an unimpressed stare.

“Maybe I told a few friends…” Perry glanced at the floor. “But just to mention I may get an interview at BechTech! They promised they’d keep their mouth shut, I swear!”

“If it did leak out through those channels, that still isn’t Perry’s fault,” Ida said. “He was excited when you offered to help him. He’s a good man. You know he wouldn’t intentionally sell you out.”

Gabriel swayed back and forth. Suddenly, the wrinkles of the frown on his forehead smoothed out. “No worries, Perry. I’m not blaming you.”

“For real?”

“Maybe get more trustworthy friends. But at the end of the day, no one is to blame but the reporter, and me, for starting the scandal.” Gabrielshrugged and—actually laughed? “I’m not even going to let her ruin this day. It is a nice day, isn’t it?”

“That’s my man.” Perry reached out a hand, as if to clasp Gabriel's shoulder, but halted and gave him a cautious smile instead.

“But what are we going to do about the reporter?” Ida asked.

“Nothing. I sent her away.” Ida must’ve looked worried, because Gabriel further explained, “I did the same thing back in October—no statements, no fueling the fire—and it worked. I’ve got this covered.”

This wasn’t false confidence, or a lie for her benefit—he believed it.

“Now, about this.” Gabriel pulled the locket out.

“Oh, yeah. Just a prank, man.” Perry reached for it, but Gabriel snatched his hand back.

“What did we say about non-professional behavior during an interview? You think pranking would go down well?”

“We’ll repeat it tomorrow,” Perry said. “Withutmostprofessionalism, I swear.”

Gabriel nodded and, still clutching the locket, headed upstairs.

Ida flicked back into Perry’s phone. “What exactly happened during that interview?”

“Now it's kinda coming back to me,” Perry said. “And I think I did some damn strange things.”

Later on, when Gabriel was asleep, Ida sneaked into his bedroom, carefully pried the bedstand’s drawer open, and lifted the locket. It made Gabriel happy—perhaps in the same way daydreaming about him made Ida happy—but he deserved to have his head clear. No more perfume-like shenanigans.

She carried the locket away and hid it in a secret compartment in the fireplace. Then she popped into the music box and tried not to think about having to create the same unpredictable object—but fueled by anger.

***

In the following days, the renovations happened all at once. Furniture was dragged out of the kitchen and dining room, the wallpaper scraped off, and new pieces dragged back in. A wooden, porcelain-lined storage unit Ida called an “icebox” replaced the fridge. The center of the kitchen was now dominated by a sturdy wooden table; walls were covered by standing cabinets and shelves displaying plates, pots, and glassware. Thepièce de résistancewas an original Victorian cookstove, made of black iron, with shelves of its own and an attached pipe, running to the wall, to serve as an outlet for the smoke from burning wood.