Haunted Roommate: She's the Ghost Who Babysits Me
When I turned back around, I noticed a new note pinned to the table.
It was the same familiar handwriting, but the strokes seemed to carry a hint of chill this time. "Squanderer."
I froze, then started laughing out loud. So this ghost couldn't just cook—she was also a thrifty, budget-conscious woman. I liked that.
I immediately grabbed a pen and wrote back, "Sorry, Ivy. I was just joking. From now on, let's stick to regular dishes. I won't bring up such ridiculous things anymore."
I made sure to apologize sincerely.