Page 24 of The Ghost of Ellwood

At first,he’d said. Did that mean he felt comfortable now?

“I mean you no harm,” I said. “I’m just a writer who moved here for a fresh start.”

Theo’s dark gaze lingered on mine. “You didn’t come here to gawk at me?” He balled his hand into a fist and stepped back from the desk. “Theyallcome to gawk at me. Children stand outside the window and throw rocks. Young men bring their dates and show them around the property, using the young lady’s fear to draw her in closer. All to see if the stories are true.”

I was no expert in the paranormal, but I had never heard of a ghost being so self-aware.

“Theo…” I wasn’t sure how to phrase it. “You know you’re not…alive…right?”

“Don’t be absurd, Ben Cross. Of course, I know I’m dead. It is my punishment to forever wander these grounds, to be trapped within this prison of painful recollections and grief.”

“Punishment? Why do you think you’re being punished?”

“For having loved,” he answered in a soft voice. His eyes bore into me, and the sorrow swirling in them nearly took the breath from my lungs.

“Last I heard, love wasn’t a crime.”

Anger flashed in his expression. “It is when it’s not a natural love. When its very existence goes against God.”

His meaning became all too clear. Harvey.

“I found your journal,” I said, hoping to edge into the topic easily but I was much too eager. “I only read the first page, but—”

“You hadnoright to read my private journal, Ben Cross!” Theo’s form shimmered, as if his ability to remain visible relied on his emotions.

“I’m sorry, Theo. I didn’t mean to pry. At the time, I didn’t know….”That the house was haunted.“I didn’t know you were stillhere.Forgive me.”

He gave a curt nod. “Very well. You’re forgiven. Though I’d prefer it if you didn’t pry into my life any further. Some secrets should stay buried.”

Before I could answer him, he disappeared.

Seconds passed where I wondered if that had actually happened or if I’d been daydreaming. Sometimes I could get so lost in my writing that the conversations with my characters felt real. However, this wasn’t the same.

Theo was really here, haunting the manor.

With a long exhale, I plopped down into the desk chair and rubbed at my temples. This was crazy. I looked at my laptop and lightly ran my hand over the keys, remembering how engrossed Theo had been.

I then read the sentences he’d typed.

But all remembered beauty is no more

Than a vague prelude to the thought of you—

You are the rarest soul I ever knew

I didn’t recognize the words. A poem?

After copying the sentences, I pasted them into Googleand hit search. I skimmed the first result and clicked to read more. The lines were fromLove Songsby Sara Teasdale, published in 1917.

What was it that caused someone to stay behind after death? Tragedy, sure…but what if it was a broken heart? Unfinished business.

Theo told me not to pry into his life, but what if I could help him? There might be a way to help him move on.

I wanted to call Carter and tell him about the strange meeting. He’d probably freak out and come running over. A glance at the time showed it was only two in the afternoon, though, and I didn’t want to interrupt him at work.

Later, then.

I didn’t have the heart to delete Theo’s sentences from my document, so I copied them over to another one instead. The ringing of my phone startled me.