It was hopeless. There was no way I was getting anyone on the phone. I had to be there in person. Which would be a whole lot easier if the car was running! I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, but the darkness only made it easier to visualize Jack’s tormented features.
I hated leaving like that, but sitting Jack down to explain that I was a witch sent to grant him a Christmas miracle, except I’d messed up, and now he was about to lose all his memories from the past three weeks, was not a ten-minute conversation. Besides, if I failed to reverse the rule, he wouldn’t remember any of it, anyway.
An hour passed while I waited inside the car imagining every horrible scenario. Jack called four times before I turned off my phone. Snow flurries fluttered in the air, making it seem like I was trapped inside a snow globe that someone had shaken and then perched on a shelf.
Finally, another taxi showed up to take me to the train station. As soon as the car braked, I jumped out of the taxi and ran to one of the self-serve ticket kiosks. Bouncing on my heels, I swiped through the screens. When I got to the end, I tapped the print button and waited. Nothing happened.
My eyes crossed as I hit the side of the machine with my hand like it was a vending machine and my chips were stuck. The move rarely freed the chips, and it did nothing to print my ticket.
I glanced at the manned ticket booth, but it was empty and dark. This was unbelievable. Somehow, I’d found myself in the plot of one of those movies where the universe and everything in it conspired to make you late. Closing my eyes, I pushed a wave of energy into the kiosk, hoping I wouldn’t scramble the thing permanently. It buzzed as the ticket printed and popped out into my hand.
Relief spread down to my toes as I raced toward the boarding train and claimed my seat. The snow had picked up, falling thick and fast outside my window, blinding the scenery as it rushed past. It made travel difficult, and by the time I rounded the corner in front of my towering office building, it was almost midnight.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” The doors were locked, and thanks to our security system, not even magic could penetrate the deadbolts. I pounded on the glass, seeing lights inside the reception area. Hope made me dizzy. They were still inside, and I’d made it in time.
A shadow bounced against the wall, and a man in uniform pushing a mop bucket stepped into view. He approached the door and gave me a curious smile.
“Can I help you?” he asked through the door.
“Yes. I work here, and I’m late for the party. Can you let me in?” I searched through my purse and flashed him my employee badge.
The man frowned and dread doused some of my hope. “I’m sorry, but the party was canceled because of the snow. I’m sure they will reschedule.”
“What?” My whole body seemed to collapse inward, and my arms dropped to my sides. There was no party. No one inside to help me reverse the spell that would take Jack’s memories.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to call for a ride?” The man asked, but I waved him away and walked away from the building. I shuffled through the snow for a few feet and sank onto a metal bench. A lamp post illuminated the furious flakes and the empty street as the clock ticked down to midnight.
Tears slid in hot streaks down the sides of my face, and I huddled inside my coat. It was Christmas morning, and I was alone again. But this time, there was no joy to soak in, no family to sit with around the fire. Worst of all, Jack had lost his memories.
I’d ended up on the wrong side of a miracle, just like Simon had warned.
Fumbling for my phone, I pulled up Sage’s number and hit the call button. The phone rang and rang, each tone sounding more miserable than the last.
“Hello, Delia? Is that you?”
I sniffed through the handset, nodding until I realized she couldn’t see it. “Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry. I know it’s Christmas and you’re still on your vacation, but I messed up, and I needed someone to talk to.”
“Del, what happened? I thought everything was going well. I got the report. Shouldn’t you be celebrating your promotion? I was going to call and congratulate you, just not this early.”
“There is no promotion. I ruined everything. I deviated from the case file and activated the client memory clause. I don’t know what to do. I tried to stop it. I’m literally sitting outside the empty office building as we speak in the middle of a snowstorm.”
The phone went quiet, and then Sage asked, “Del, didn’t you get the memo?”
“What memo? Did I get fired?”
“No. Wait a second. Let me check my email.”
Sage whispered something intelligible, then came back onto the line. “The memo’s still sitting in my outbox. Technology was supposed to save us! But the service in these mountains is so spotty. Plus, there was the blizzard and the avalanche, and then I got distracted by a sexy ski instructor. Sidebar, if your hot as coal, Mr. Know-it-all ski instructor tells you not to go down the black diamond slope, just listen. It’ll save you a ton of trouble and—”
“Sage. What does the memo say?”
“Oh, right. So the thing is there was a mixup in the case file which is why Simon got sent out. Two files got merged and someone in the analysis department messed up big. Not naming names—cough, Tom—but Becky was never Jack’s miracle. You were. It got messy because agents don’t work their own cases, and if you remember, I was supposed to work the case originally. But then you were kind of nailing it, so upper management figured they’d let it roll, and sent Simon out to handle Becky’s case. It’s all in the memo.”
“I was Jack’s miracle?” I said, stunned.
“Yes, and the good news is they didn’t wipe his memories. So maybe you could hightail it from the office and slip back in unnoticed to try and salvage Christmas?”
“Salvage Christmas?” I yelled into the phone. “I just traveled three hours into the city after completely ghosting Jack for no other reason than spotty mountain service!”
