I couldn’t bring myself to use the master bedroom.That room still belonged to Alice.Instead, I claimed the smaller guest room I’d used as a girl.The bed was narrower, the dresser scarred with age, the quilt faded—but it felt right.Familiar.Safe.
When I finished, hunger finally nudged its way past exhaustion.I reheated my boxed-up enchiladas and ate standing at the kitchen counter, not entirely sure why I couldn’t bring myself to sit.A restlessness buzzed beneath my skin, sharp and insistent.
I opened a bottle of wine.
Willow stayed glued to my side—watching as I unpacked, settling in the center of the kitchen floor while I ate, weaving between my ankles when I poured a glass.I set out a can of cat food, but Willow sniffed it, flicked her tail dismissively, and followed me into the living room instead.
The envelope Rylyn had given me now resided on the coffee table.
That couldn’t be ignored any longer.
I sank onto the sofa, legs tucked beneath me, wineglass in one hand and the envelope in the other.Willow leapt up beside me, golden eyes intent.
“You’ve been acting like you know something all day,” I murmured, scratching behind her ears.“Want to share?”
Willow purred.
I opened the envelope and tipped its contents onto the table.Papers spilled out—scraps, sketches, lists in Alice’s familiar handwriting.One page looked like a grocery list.Another held strange symbols and looping notes.And then I found the sheet of notebook paper, stained with a faded coffee ring in one corner.
A letter.
My chest tightened as I unfolded it.
Alice’s handwriting marched across the page in neat, steady lines, so familiar it made my throat ache.
My dear Piper—I am sorrier than I can say for placing this burden on your shoulders.But the truth could no longer wait.Hickory Hollow is not merely a town.It is a crossing place, a place of old power.Long before it had roads or fences or a church bell, there were legends that named this land enchanted.Magical.A place where the borders between worlds wore thin.
By the third line, the wine turned sour in my stomach.
Everything Owen and Dougal had told me earlier wasn’t just true—it was documented.Alice spelled it out plainly.The ley lines.The gate.The role she’d played as Guardian.The daily ritual that had kept Hickory Hollow from becoming a welcome mat for every nightmare with claws.
And now?
Now it was mine.
My hands shook as I kept reading.
You must take my place, Piper.I wish there had been another way, but there was not.You are the only one I trust to keep the gate, protect the town, and uncover what truly happened to me.
I pressed my lips together hard enough to sting.
“Of course,” I muttered.“No pressure or anything.”
Willow jumped lightly onto the sofa beside me, then settled with her tail wrapped primly around her paws, watching me with those unnervingly bright golden eyes.
I looked back down at the letter.
There is more you must know.Willow is not merely a cat.She is a witch under a hex, one whose name was once carried into legend and twisted into a children’s tale.Long ago they called her a monster in the woods, the witch with the enchanted house and the sugared path.But stories told by the frightened seldom keep the truth intact.She was more guardian than villain, and I promised her I would break the spell laid upon her.If I could not, then perhaps in time you will.
I lowered the paper slowly and stared at the cat
“You’re the witch fromHansel and Gretel?”
Willow blinked once, slow and unrepentant.
“Wow,” I muttered.“Talk about a rebrand problem.”
With the composure of someone who had clearly been waiting far too long for me to catch up, she tucked her paws more neatly beneath herself.
