“Ahem, Ms. Bennett? Did you hear me?” Joan waved her hand in front of my face. I blinked, hearing my name, but it wasn’t through the microphone. A cheer rang through the crowd as Delia’s crush, Simon Delacour, shook hands with the division head before lifting the award trophy into the air.
I’d lost.
But I wasn’t supposed to lose.
Something inside me cracked. The applause rose like a gust of wind whipping through the lounge and rushed past my ears. I blinked again. No, the noise wasn’t coming from inside. I looked toward the windows where giant flakes mixed with sleet pelted the glass.
I inhaled a shaky breath. The storm had started again, and this time, I couldn’t deny it. We weren’t dealing with strange weather patterns; we were dealing with magic.
My magic.
Joan rested a hand on my arm and ushered me toward the coatroom. I trailed behind her in a daze. The sound of the wind and the cheerful party grew muffled by the cocoon of thick winter coats. But the coats did nothing to soften the voice in my head.
They didn’t wish you good luck; they were laughing at you. Nothing’s changed. You haven’t changed.
I fixed my watery stare on my dress shoes, then glanced at Joan’s red pumps, trying to block the memories from my past I’d tried so hard to leave behind. The lump in my throat refusedto budge.
“As I was saying,” Joan continued. “After a thorough review of your employee file, including relevant background information, upper management has initiated what we call Operation Merry Reset.”
My brow creased at the unfamiliar term. I gave up shoe-watching and asked hopefully, “Is that some form of promotion? Does it come with a plaque?”
“No. It’s listed in the handbook. Chapter twenty-six, Section 4, Paragraph 2.6. To summarize, it’s when one of our agents enters burnout and is offered the chance for a reset.”
A harsh laugh burst from my throat. “But I’m not burned out. I promise! If this is about Halloween, or—” I coughed into my fist. “The Fourth of July—”
“It’s about the snow,” Joan interrupted. “Well, it’s about those other things too, but specifically the snow. We know about your family history, and we can’t have our agents manifesting uncontrollable blizzards when they’re meant to cast a gentle snowfall to enhance the holiday season. A white Christmas is one thing. Downed power lines, treacherous roads, and postponed festivities are another. It’s better if we address the issue before we have to—“ Joan leaned in and whispered, “Cancel Christmas.”
I barely suppressed a groan.How original.This year, someone needed to save Christmas from me.
The agency was overreacting. It was just a little snow! Yes—three unpredictable storms in a week were unusual, but I was sure I could fix it without having to reset, or whatever phrase the agency used in the handbook.
Joan snapped her fingers, and a white envelope with the agency emblem stamped on the front appeared in her hand. She offered it to me with a practiced smile.
“What is that?” I eyed the envelope as if it might give me frostbite.
“Inside is a one-way ticket to the hometown listed in your employee file. We’ve verified the address with your family and informed them of your arrival.”
I froze, feeling like Joan had dunked me in the caramel fountain. “You told my parents I’m coming home for the holidays?”
I hadn’t been home in years. Not since I’d left town humiliated and desperate for a fresh start in the city.
Joan pressed the envelope into my hand.
“Your length of stay is based on the successful completion of the terms listed inside your reset paperwork. Please turn in your badge and company laptop to security before you leave.” She wagged her finger. “No official casework allowed until you’re cleared. It’s a liability, and we take these things very seriously.”
I nodded, still reeling from the turn of events.
Done with her presentation, Joan tugged on the ends of her blazer and readjusted the badge clipped to her pocket. She gestured toward the door.
“Ms. Bennett, the agency, and myself want to wish you a very merry reset, and best of luck!”
Chapter 2
Sage
Welcome to Cold SpellMountain.
The taxi drove past the painted welcome sign and into the quaint, snow-swept village. It rolled to a stop outside my family’s tea shop and waited with the meter running while I sat in the backseat and checked my email. I held up my phone, grinding my teeth as the picturesque mountains diminished the signal.
