What a Ghoul Wants
belts, certainly not enough to keep our ratings above the
     cancellation bar for the whole season.
    Without him saying as much, I could tell that Gopher thought this could be our last
     ghostbust if we didn’t shoot something pretty spectacular here in Wales.
    I also knew even without asking that there’d be no way that the network brass would
     let us come off this location and go find another. In fact, if they learned what’d
     happened to Heath that morning, they might pull the plug anyway for insurance purposes.
    No, it was either continue with our plans to investigate the ghosts of Kidwellah Castle
     or go home and file for unemployment. I could always return to doing readings for
     clients and trying to eke out a little extra cash conducting local ghostbusts from
     my home base in Boston, but that would mean saying good-bye to Heath, who’d most certainly
     head back to his home in New Mexico.
    “Dammit,” I swore as I swirled the rest of my oatmeal. I hated being caught between
     a murderous ghost and a hard place. I lifted my chin and eyed the curtain moodily.
     I didn’t want to make this decision alone, and quite possibly it wasn’t even mine
     to make.
    After slurping down the rest of my breakfast as fast as I could, I rang for the nurse.
     She came and pronounced me fit to discharge. She then helped me get dressed, and I
     was gratefully surprised to discover that my clothes had been thoughtfully dried by
     the hospital staff, and even though my jeans and undershirt smelled a little musty,
     I was glad to put on something warm.
    Once dressed I felt close to normal, but still chilled through, and the nurse advised
     me that was likely to persist for another few hours. “Find a nice cozy fire and sit
     near it for the rest of the day, Miss Holliday. You’ll be back to feeling yourself
     by morning.”
    “Thank you. You’ve been really kind and I appreciate it,” I told her, pulling on my
     boots. “Can you please tell me where I might find the other patient from Kidwellah?
     The young man with the name Heath Whitefeather.”
    “Come with me,” she said with a wink. “I’ll show you the way.”
    I followed behind her anxiously. Until I saw my sweetheart with my own two eyes, I
     wasn’t going to be satisfied that he was okay.
    We made our way out of the curtained area and down a long corridor before we turned
     left and stopped at an elevator. “He’s been moved up to the second floor,” she said,
     pressing the button.
    As we went in and the door shut, I asked, “How long will he have to stay here?”
    “Oh, that I don’t know, miss. You’ll have to ask his nurse on two.”
    I tapped my foot until the doors opened again and we headed down the corridor, where
     my nurse stopped at room 221 and knocked gently on the door. “Em?” I heard from inside.
    That brought me up short. Somehow he knew it was me. Were we a good match or what?
    The nurse opened the door and I poked my head in. Heath lay there covered with the
     same bags of warm saline and extra blankets that had covered me downstairs.
    “How’d you know it was me?” I asked.
    He looked at me dully and blinked in a slow sluggish way. “Gramps,” he said, pointing
     to a corner of the room. My eyes flickered there and I saw a small circle of what
     looked like vapor expanding and contracting. “He told me you were on your way up.”
    The nurse giggled and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “He was a few degrees colder
     than you when he came to hospital, Miss Holliday. He’s still a wee bit daffy, I’m
     afraid, but as he warms up, he’ll come round, so not to worry.”
    I smiled. If only she knew that Heath wasn’t nearly as out of it as he seemed. I thanked
     the nurse for all her kindness again before stepping into the room to close the door
     behind me. “Hi, sweetie,” I said shyly, feeling my eyes mist. I wasn’t normally this
     sentimental, but seeing him alive and well and breathing was such a relief that I

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