Page 85 of Ghostly

She’s afraid.

“Ida.”

She flinched at his voice.

“It’ll be all right,” he said. “Those days are long behind you. You won’t revert to that state, no matter how afraid you are. You’re through that. You’ve already won.” He raised an eyebrow. “You can’t be indicted for the same crime twice.”

A pale smile crossed her lips, but disappeared just as quickly. “They’re not, though. Those days.”

“You’ve forgiven your family. And you’re making wonderful progress with Perry.”

Ida shook her head and whimpered. “Not those.”

It took everything he had not to reach out for her; she was in distress, but the wave of emotions hitting him hinted it was the type of distress where she’d want some physical distance.

So instead, he only waited. She’d talk when she wanted to, or leave if she needed privacy. Whatever she did, he’d understand.

“I want to live again,” she finally said, her voice small. “But I’m so afraid of my affliction coming back. The loops I get stuck in are annoying, but not half as frightening as the whole thing. Thoughts. Images. The actual damage I could cause.”

Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of it? He’d been so preoccupied with managing the project, eyes solely on the victory and the more common struggles Ida would face, he’d forgotten all about her hidden troubles. “I’m so sorry. I hadn’t considered it.”

“It’s not your problem to consider.”

But it isourproblem, he wanted to say. “Times have changed,” he said instead. “You needn’t worry about anyone locking you into an asylum.They have proper treatments now, therapy. If your OCD comes back, it may not be easy, but you’re strong enough to manage it.”

He moved his hand ever so slightly closer to hers. “Is it really worth not living?”

“You think I could get better?”

“You will. Not because I think it. Because you’ll do it.” He waited until she met his eyes. “Because in this house, we win.”

She smiled, properly now.

“It’ll be fine.”

“Maybe you should go. This was a bad idea—something could happen while I’m inside—”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here, waiting until you pop back out.” He tapped the blanket.

She nodded and scrunched her face—she looked like she was smelling something foul while biting down on something fouler, and still, Gabriel couldn’t help noticing how pretty she was.

She relaxed with a long exhale. “I used to do this when my compulsions would start to spiral out of control. I’d clench all my facial muscles, gather that tension, then release it. Sometimes it helped me calm down. It’s moot now, but…”

“We can pretend it helped.”

“Yes. Maybe you can use it too. When you go back to the city. I’m sure there’s a lot of stress in your job.”

He wanted to ask her so badly—didshe truly want him gone?—but this wasn’t the time. “Ready?”

She turned her eyes to the locket. With a delay, she nodded, and disappeared.

The first few minutes passed without change. Voices from the backyard drifted in, but otherwise, not a ghost stirred.

Then the locket warmed up. The radiating heat made his shirt sticky, and continued for a whole minute, vibrations increasing. Was that how it was supposed to go? Intense, definitely—but correct? “Ida,” Gabriel tried. “If you can hear me, all is well. Remember you’re past it. Let it go.”

A burnt metallic smell spread through the air, although the locket showed no outward change.

“Just a little bit more. You can do it.”