Philip | Mainlander Fix

Philip stared. “I’ve never scared anyone. I was a cartographer.”

“Get a proper haunting,” Wren said. “Every ghost needs a story. Yours is blank. So I’m assigning you one.” philip mainlander

She slid a crumpled napkin across the counter. On it was written: Philip stared

Philip turned. A young woman in a glittering jacket sat two stools down, nursing a milkshake the color of bruises. Her hair was short and pink, and she had the sharp, bored eyes of someone who had seen too many endings. “Every ghost needs a story

And yet, here he was. Stuck.

Wren shrugged, and for the first time, her sharp eyes softened. “It’s the only kind that ever worked on me.”

Philip tried rattling the salt shaker. It wobbled once, then fell over. Frank righted it without looking up.