Sam’s face was happy when he rolled over and faced me the next morning. Despite the events of the previous evening, I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt … good. “Good morning.” Sam wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, brushing a light kiss against my forehead as he let consciousness wash over him. After a few moments, he bolted upright. “Holy crap!” “It’s okay,” I soothed. “What happened to the ghost?” “Aunt Tillie sent it away.” “For good?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” “I … everything is so fuzzy.” I cocked my head, sympathy rolling over me. “That’s because Aunt Tillie cursed the wine.” Sam stilled. “She did? Is that why everyone was acting so funny?” “Yeah,”
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