Chapter Four

"Ghost of Apologies"

Casper

The last thing I wanted to be doing on a night like this was wandering through a corn maze, especially with a storm rolling in, but here we were. The sky was darkening, thick storm clouds gathering like something out of a gothic novel, and the air felt heavy with the promise of rain. Tabitha walked next to me, her steps slow and cautious. She paused, fumbling for a minute with her keychain and then clicked on a tiny flashlight she kept among her keys. She swept the beam across the narrow dirt path while ominous shadows from the stalks of corn loomed in from all sides. I kept close to her, floating just above the ground like the good ghost-boyfriend I was trying to be.

The sudden snapping of small twigs under Tabitha's feet and gusts of wind that came sweeping through the thick stalks put both of us on edge, but we kept moving forward, winding through the twisting paths. It felt like a metaphor for my life, or afterlife, I guess—right now. Lost, confusing, and full of dead ends. At least I wasn't completely alone in it. Not with Tabitha by my side. I'd known she was special from the first moment I met her, and that feeling seemed to keep growing the more time we spent together. Of course, I wish we were doing so under better circumstances than whatever crazy predicament this was.

As we rounded a particularly sharp corner, the tension in the air shifted. I felt it first, that icy prickle that signaled something was about to go down. My instincts were screaming at me, and a half-second later, Morticia popped out from behind a thick wall of corn like she'd been waiting there the whole time.

"Boo!" she cackled, flashing a wicked grin that made me flinch.

I floated sideways in alarm, nearly bumping into Tabitha, who let out a startled yelp. Her flashlight wobbled, the light slicing through the dark in jagged lines as she tried to regain her composure.

"Jesus, Morticia," I gasped, trying to recover my dignity. "Did you really have to do that?"

Morticia smirked, her crimson lips twisting into a delighted curve. "What's the fun in having paranormal talents if you can't scare the bejeepers out of people once in a while? I'm leaning into the whole wicked witch vibe this year," she said with a mocking tilt of her head, her voice dripping with amusement.

I stared at her, trying to keep my frustration in check. Morticia Bellamy had always loved theatrics, and tonight was no different. She looked every bit the wicked witch of the modern world, dressed in an impeccably tailored black power suit that screamed money. A luxurious fur-trimmed coat hung off her shoulders like a statement piece, and her high-heeled boots—sleek, sharp, and utterly impractical for a corn maze—sank slightly into the soft earth beneath her. Her jet-black hair was cut into a severe, blunt bob that framed her face perfectly, and her nails—long, red, and impossibly sharp—glinted in the faint light of the moon.

Once upon a time, I had found her stunning. She was beautiful, but in a hard, calculated way, like a piece of art designed to be admired from a distance but never touched. Now, as I stood there, floating beside Tabitha, I realized how much had changed. Morticia's beauty felt cold, hollow even. All surface and no soul. Tabitha, on the other hand, was the exact opposite—messy, warm, real, and impossibly genuine, even in the face of all this madness.

"My coven's installed invisible cameras all over the maze," Morticia continued. "I saw you two wandering around like lost little lambs on the video feed from our secret lair. Thought I'd come see what you wanted." She crossed her arms over her chest, her red nails tapping rhythmically on the fur trim of her coat. "So, what's the emergency?"

I clenched both fists by my sides to keep from trying to strangle her with my ghostly hands. "You know why we're here, Morticia. I need you to reverse the curse and bring me back to life."

Her laughter rang out, sharp and clear, like glass shattering in the cold night air. "Oh, Casper, you're adorable when you're desperate," she said, shaking her head. "But no. You deserve this, and you know it."

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could get a word out, she turned her icy gaze toward Tabitha, eyeing her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

"And you," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly, "clearly aren't a Western Witch. So, what are you?"

Tabitha blinked, taken off guard. "Uh…I'm not sure," she stammered, glancing nervously at me for help.

Morticia raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. "Not sure?" She tsked, shaking her head in mock pity. "Well, here's a word of advice: steer clear of this guy." She gestured at me with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "If you know what's good for you, you'll avoid becoming another name on his long list of discarded women."

Tabitha's mouth tightened, her hand gripping the flashlight a little harder. I could feel the tension radiating off her, and for a moment, I thought she was going to snap back. But she kept her cool…Barely.

"I'm not like that anymore," I said quickly, stepping—or floating—between them. "I've changed, Morticia. I'm trying to make things right. Just…please, reverse the curse."

Morticia crossed her arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "You think a little groveling is going to change anything? You think you can just say you're sorry and make everything better?"

I took a deep breath—more out of habit than necessity—and forced myself to stay calm. "I'm not asking for an easy way out, Morticia. I know I messed up. I know I've hurt people. But I'm trying to do better. I've changed."

She stared at me for a long moment, her icy blue eyes searching mine as if she was looking for some hint of truth. Then, slowly, she shook her head, a bitter smile twisting her lips. "Nice try, Casper, but no. That's not good enough."

Frustration bubbled up inside me, and I could feel myself slipping closer to the edge. "So what do you want, Morticia?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. "What do I have to do to fix this?"

Tabitha stepped forward, her voice steady and calm, though I could hear the frustration beneath it. "Look, Morticia," she said, her tone measured. "I don't know what happened between you two, but this curse is extreme, even for someone like Casper. He's trying to change. I've seen it. He's making an effort."

Morticia's eyes flicked to Tabitha, her expression softening for a fraction of a second. "And why do you care? What do you see in him even though you know his dirty habit of stringing women along?"

Tabitha glanced at me, her eyes wide and open, and I felt a strange warmth bloom in my chest. "Because I believe in forgiveness and giving people second chances. Casper isn't perfect, but I don't think he deserves to be trapped like this. Can't you just give him a chance to prove he's learned something?"

For a moment, Morticia's expression wavered. It was brief, but I saw it—a flicker of hesitation, of something like sympathy. But then it was gone, replaced by that cold, calculating gaze.

She twirled a lock of hair between her thin fingers, as if deep in thought. Then, slowly, a devilish smile spread across her face, and I knew whatever she was about to say, I wasn't going to like it.

"Fine," she said after a long pause. "I'll give him a chance."

"You will?" I said, floating forward hopefully.

She held up a hand. "Not so fast. You want to come back to life? Okay, but first you have to prove yourself. Show me that you've changed."

I frowned. "And how do you want me to do that?"

Her grin grew wider. "First, I think you should apologize to all the women you've ghosted before."

I stared at her, my brain struggling to process the words. "You…you can't be serious."

Her laughter rang out, sharp and mocking. "Oh, but I am. You want redemption, Casper? Then you need to make amends. Every. Single. One."

I felt like the ground had just dropped out from under me. The idea of tracking down every woman I'd left hanging—it was impossible. There had been…well, probably more of them than I cared to admit. And the thought of facing each and every one of them, admitting my bad…I'd be sweating already if I had any flesh to sweat from.

"You can't really mean that," I stuttered.

Morticia leaned in, her eyes gleaming. "Oh, but Casper…I do."

Before I could respond, Morticia's form shimmered, and then, with a snap of her fingers, she vanished into thin air, leaving only the faint echo of her laughter behind.

I stood there in stunned silence, my head spinning as I tried to wrap my mind around what had just happened.

Beside me, Tabitha let out a long breath. "Well," she said, "that went well."