Page 15 of Ghosted

Back in the car, we trailed Mom’s little sedan down the winding roads. The night had deepened, the drizzle turning into a steady rain, and a layer of fog clung to the ground, giving everything an eerie, dreamlike quality. Trees loomed on either side of the road, their branches swaying in the wind. It felt likewe were driving into another world entirely, one that frankly had no business existing outside of a Halloween movie.

“Where is she going?” I wondered aloud, as we’d surely passed the city limits miles ago.

After several turns, the road began to climb.

“Uh-oh,” muttered Tabitha. “I think she must be heading to the Monroe Mansion.”

“Crap,” I said again as the towering silhouette of the estate came into view, its Gothic spires rising against the stormy sky. The place was rumored to be haunted, but no one knew much about the reclusive owner—or if there even was an owner.

A Halloween party seemed to be in full swing. Cars lined the gravel driveway, and costumed figures made their way up the grand stone steps, laughter and eerie music echoing through the rain.

Tabitha’s eyes widened as she took in the scene. “We can’t just let her disappear into that place without talking to her.”

“I suppose we’ll have to go inside,” I replied grimly. The party scene was something I typically tried to avoid.

As we made our way to the entrance, I couldn’t help but lay my hand over Tabitha’s as if I was giving it a gentle squeeze. “You really don’t know how much this means to me, Tabitha,” I said quietly. “You’re going above and beyond, and I won’t forget it.”

She glanced up at me, her eyes soft. “I believe in you, Casper. And I’m not going to stop.”

Inside, the Monroe Mansion was even more surreal than it had appeared from the outside. Candle-lit chandeliers dangled from vaulted ceilings, illuminating the massive ballroom. Guests were draped in all manner of elaborate costumes—sultryvampires, ethereal fairies, eerie ghosts, and unsettling ghouls. A grand staircase wound up to the second floor, and each corner of the room seemed to hold some new oddity: a severed hand twitching on a platter, portraits with eyes that seemed to follow us, and guests with glances that lingered just a moment too long. As we moved through the crowd, I could swear some of party-goers looked directly at me, as if seeing me clearly for what I was. It made me feel both seen and unnerved, a strange contradiction I hadn’t expected.

We pushed our way into the heart of the crowd, passing a long buffet table laden with strange bubbling drinks and treats. A cauldron of punch smoked dramatically, ladles dipping in and out as revelers scooped up drinks. The candy display, courtesy of the local candy shop,Sugar Rush, had every sugary temptation imaginable, being served by a woman in an angel costume, a drag queen, and a short man dressed as Sherlock Holmes who stared at me curiously through a large magnifying glass.

The sound of lively music pulled us toward the dance floor, and that’s when I saw her—my mother, Hera Thorne, dressed like a nurse-slash-woman-of-the-night dancing with a tall, silver-haired man with a sharp smile and fox-like features, wearing a pair of silver fox ears perched on his head. My mother was laughing, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright with amusement as the two of them spun together in a dizzying twirl, and I promptly developed a sour taste in my mouth.

I couldn’t hold back. “Mom!” I called out, my voice cutting through the din of laughter and music.

Mom stopped mid-twirl, and her eyes locked onto mine. For a split second, her gaze softened, but then her expression shifted, and she looked at me the way she did when I’d shown up late for dinner without a good excuse.

“Casper Thorne!” she called out with a sigh. “Son, you look like death! Have you been eating?”

I froze, hands dropping to my sides. “Thanks, Mom. And…what are you wearing?”

She looked down at her outfit, unbothered. “Well, it’s Halloween, darling,” she said, smoothing the front of her dress. Then, with the same mix of exasperation and motherly criticism I’d seen a hundred times before, she added, “And for heaven’s sake, can you get a proper haircut for once?”

Chapter Seven

“Midnight Miracle”

Tabitha

Suddenly, realization hit me like a flash of lightning.

“Wait,” I gasped, my voice almost a whisper. “You can see him?”

Casper, too, looked baffled, his transparent brow knitting together in surprise. “Yeah, how can you see me, Mom?” he asked, his tone edging between confusion and disbelief. “I’m…dead!”

Ignoring our mutual shock, Hera turned to the silver-haired man by her side, the man who’d been watching us with a twinkle in his eye and a small, knowing smirk. “Albert, dear,” she purred, reaching to pat his arm. “I need to have a word with my firstborn. Can I catch up with you later?”

Albert grinned, and in a gesture I never expected to witness in a grand old mansion, he leaned down, pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and gave her backside a quick, playful slap. The sly smile he shot at Hera spoke volumes as he sauntered off, vanishing into the crowd.

Casper cringed beside me, covering his eyes. “I could have lived forever without seeing that.”

Hera brushed off the moment as if it were nothing, her eyes narrowing in determination as she jerked her head for us to follow. “Come on. We need to talk somewhere private,” she said, her voice taking on an edge that demanded no argument.

We wove our way through the mansion, navigating the twists and turns of the shadowed halls and opulent rooms. Everywhere we went, however, seemed to be filled with more party-goers. Elaborately costumed guests seemed to blur into the gothic backdrop: a vampire lounging against a mantelpiece, a devil laughing as he clinked glasses with a witch in a corset, and even a werewolf playfully howling at a guest dressed as the moon. Their laughter echoed in the halls, spilling out into the corridor each time we opened a door.

As I glanced at some of the couples, I couldn’t suppress the ache that lingered inside me—a yearning for something I hadn’t allowed myself to fully acknowledge. I missed the warmth, the thrill of a shared moment, the soft vulnerability that came with caring for someone. Casper caught my wistful look, his expression softening. His gaze lingered just long enough to senda spark through me, but I quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed the blush creeping up my cheeks.

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