The seconds ticked down. I quickened my pace across the crosswalk, waving and smiling at the cars that waited impatiently under the cruel midday sun. Even after last night, it was hard not to be happy. It was payday—my first official payday at the thrift store. It was exciting, even if I wasn't expecting a huge figure—as I had put all the purchases for Luc's store on my tab. But, still, it felt like progress. It was progress—I had actual money coming in! Bit by bit, my life was finally being pieced back together.

As I reached the other side of the street, I noticed that the tiny cafe on the corner was open again. Their renovations complete, they had pulled back the curtains and hung delicate string lights in scallops across the single window. I lingered for a moment, curious. My mouth began to water as I caught a whiff of the coffee inside.

Shifting on the balls of my feet, my gaze darted between the café and the thrift store next door. I deserved a treat, didn't I? It was payday, after all. My paycheque would still be at the store in ten minutes.

I dipped inside. The place was even smaller than it appeared on the outside, but its high ceiling prevented the single room from being claustrophobic. Exposed copper piping snaked overhead, wrapped with more strings of lights. Against the wide window were a few two-person booths. A single, long counter ran opposite, a lone barista behind it. He was wearing a denim shirt, and I wondered how he could in this heat.

He smiled expectantly as I approached the counter. "What can I get you today?"

I scanned the chalkboard menu that hung behind him. "How about—" My phone buzzed; A call. I dug frantically through my purse for it. Calls were rare these days; Luc and I usually just texted. Was it the thrift store, wondering where I was? I freed my phone and gasped when I saw the name on the screen. "Sorry, I have to take this," I mumbled, backing away from the counter.

The barista sighed.

I turned my back on them and dropped into one of the booths to answer the phone. "Polly!"

"Hi Rach," came the familiar husky voice on the other side. "You never responded to my text yesterday."

My stomach sank as I realized she was right. "Shit! I'm sorry! I got..." My voice trailed away when I realized why I hadn't called her back. A shiver crawled up my spine. "I got distracted."

She just laughed. "It's okay, I know."

"You do?" I paused, then frowned when it dawned on me. "Oh. Luc tattled on me again, huh?" Of course he would.

"I wouldn't call it tattling, Rach. It's not like we're your parents."

"I dunno, I sure feel like a kid when everyone I know rushes off to talk about me behind my back like I can't handle anything." The scene of finding Luc and Tory working in secret last night replayed in my head, and a flare of anger followed. Dickheads.

Polly clucked her tongue."I'm not going behind your back. I'm calling you, aren't I?"

"Yeah. Sorry," I said, feeling like a real ass. "It's just... I'm frustrated."

"I can tell. I take it Luc's being cagey again?"

"Uh-huh," I muttered, rubbing at the lines that were forming on my forehead. "When did he call you?"

"Last night. Late. He said you were sleeping, otherwise I would've said hi."

"Mmhmm. And what did he tell you?"

"Just that you had another encounter. Said he wanted to keep us informed."

I sighed. "Did he inform you what else he did last night?"

"No?" There was a pause. "Why? What did he do?"

"He left me sleeping upstairs and called his assistant over to do a—" What did they call them again? The word escaped me. "—a—a ghost... thingy."

Polly gave a bark of a laugh. "A ghost thingy?" Polly echoed, snickering now. "And what exactly does a ghost thingy entail?"

"Shut up! I couldn't remember what they're called! But like, Luc was walking Tory through trying to contact the spirits that have been following me."

"Oooh. You mean a seance. Tory's a medium, right?"

"How did you—" but as the question crossed my lips, I already knew. Luc. Of course. "Nevermind. Yeah, Tory's a medium... but he doesn't believe me."

"Screw him," Polly spat. "It doesn't matter what that little puppy thinks... Luc is finally taking your encounters seriously."

"Yeah, but..." I sighed.

"What? Isn't that a good thing? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I just don't like how he's hiding it from me. They were having the seance in the middle of the night! It's like he doesn't want me involved. But shouldn't I be? I mean, it's me that's being haunted isn't it?"

Another pause, this one dragging for a solid ten seconds.

"Polly?" I asked. "You still there?"

"Yeah, yeah," She paused again. "Do you actually want to be involved?"

"What? Of course!" I snapped. "Why wouldn't I?"

"No, I mean..." I heard her huff, like she was at a loss for words. "Do you actually want to be involved?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about everything we've been through. I remember you back then, Rach. You were scared shitless. So was I! Do you really want to go back to that? Do you really want to be hunting down ghosts?"

"Not really. Do you?"

"No, I really wouldn't." Her voice was sharp for some reason.

"But you are. You're hunting ghosts too," I said carefully. "I mean, not like the ghosts I'm hunting, but you're back in the thick of it too."

"I have to be, to find out what happened to Lillian. I'll do whatever I have to do."

"Exactly," I said, leaning back in the wooden booth. "The same goes for me. If I had the choice between—" I shot a glance at the barista. He wasn't paying any attention to me, but I was still careful to lower my voice, "—ghosts or no ghosts, I'd obviously choose no ghosts... But I don't have that choice. So I'll do what I have to."

For a moment, silence hung between us.

"You should tell Luc that."

"Huh?"

"Tell him everything just you told me. I'm serious."

"Really?"

"Of course! If you want to be involved, just fucking tell him! Make your case—you have a good one."

My eyes fixed on the table, the gears spinning in my head, as I stared at my frozen expression in the high-gloss finish. "You're...You're right. You're right! I will tell him that. Why shouldn't I be included? I'll make him include me, or else... Or else..."

"Or else I'll come back home and kick his ass." She laughed. "I'm serious. You call tell him that."

I jumped out of my seat, startling the barista. "Yeah! I will! I'm going to tell him that right now!" Coffee could wait. Payday could wait. I was going to march back over to the shop and tell Luc exactly what I thought about his shady ass...

"You do that, Rach. Give 'im hell for me." She chuckled. "Call me back after, okay?"

The sudden fury was doused, gone as quickly as it had come. "Dammit. You called to talk about something..." I smacked myself in the forehead, "and instead I just went off about Luc..."

Polly laughed again. "It's okay! You obviously needed to vent. I'm happy to listen."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean to totally steamroll you..."

"It's fine," she said. "Call me back after and we can talk then, kay?"

"No, no, tell me what you were going to tell me! How are you? How are things?"

She went quiet.

"Polly, what is it? If you don't tell me, I'm only going to worry about it."

She sighed. "Fine, fine. We had a breakthrough with the diaries."

I blinked at nothing. "You did?"

"Yeah. You know how all the entries are kinda... boring?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, the reason they're boring is because they're supposed to be. It's a ruse."

"Huh?"

"The boring entries are hiding the real ones. It's like—" there was a pause, "—it's like they're all in code."

"Whoa. How did you figure that out?"

"I didn't. Matilda did. She sensed it."

"Sensed it?"

"It's not a regular code." She scoffed bitterly. "It's magic, of course."

"What?" I asked, suddenly concerned. Shouldn't Polly be happier about this? "I thought you wanted to know about your sister's life."

"I do," she shot back, almost angrily. But the flame was quickly doused. "But the lengths she went to means whatever she's hiding was really worth hiding."

A deep chill took hold. I shook my shoulders, in an attempt to loosen its grip. "Maybe it was just to hide her use of magic," I offered, half-hoping to convince myself as well as Polly. "That stuff is supposed to be secret, right?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Matilda keeps a low profile, but has Luc ever told you to hide it?"

"I mean he doesn't shout about it, but, well, his customers know and he has a lot of customers. They can't all be..." Once again I was very aware that I was feet away from the barista. "You know. Can they?"

"I don't know. Matilda said—"

But Polly's voice faded into the background as my skin began to prickle. A sudden feeling came over me, eerie and unsettling... It was like I was being watched. My heart stuttered when I noticed someone lurking on the other side of the café's window, staring at me. My breath caught as my gaze slowly climbed to meet theirs.

It wasn't a ghost... but almost as bad.

Almost worse.

It was Rick. My ex.

+ + +

Well, well, well... We haven't heard from Rick himself in a while. 
What do you think he wants with Rachel?

And what do you think about Polly's discovery?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you did, please remember to vote & comment!

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