The hot water helped chase away the lingering ache in my muscles and the fog in my head, but it couldn’t wash off the weight of what I was about to do.Guardian.Gate.Crossroads town.
I dressed in baby-blue capris, a short-sleeved white cotton shirt, and—lesson learned—my worn-in Keds instead of anything with a heel.Practical over cute… this once.
When I came back down, Owen stood in the living room, studying the mantel.He turned when he heard me.
“You know,” he said, nodding toward the photos, “your aunt must have loved you a lot.”
I joined him, eyes tracing the frames.Baby me with frosting on my face.Kid me in a pink tutu.Me in my high school cap and gown.Then one from college, taken from a distance as if Alice had attended but stayed out of sight.Me with a suitcase, headed to Manhattan.
“There are pictures of everyone,” I said automatically.
“Not like this,” Owen said quietly.“She watched your life.Even when you weren’t here.”
It made my chest ache.“I sent her some of those from New York,” I said.“The others… she must have stolen from my parents’ stash.”
Or maybe from somewhere else.Somewhere between worlds.
I pushed that thought aside.“I should grab the potion.”
I ducked back to the basement, snatched the correct vial—labelled this time, thanks to Tani’s nagging—and slipped it carefully into my pocket.Willow was nowhere in sight.Probably off hunting or doing whatever cursed witches in cat bodies did on their afternoons off.
When I came back to the living room, I squared my shoulders.“Okay.Ready.”
Owen opened the front door for me, the afternoon light spilling across the worn threshold.
Together, we stepped out of the house and headed toward the hickory woods north of town—toward the ancient tree sitting at the place where paths overlapped and worlds touched, and toward whatever waited for me there.
Chapter Eight
“Canyoustopbythe library?”I asked.
Owen flicked me a look as he drove.“Why?I thought we were in a big rush to get to the woods.”
“Tani is in a rush for me to get to the woods,” I said.“I want to stop at the library because in my aunt’s writings, she said there was an old legend about Hickory Hollow.I want to see if I can find anything about the town.”
“Would it be in the library?”he asked.“If you’re looking for old town history, the town offices might have more than a few dusty paperbacks.”
“Okay, then, town offices.Wherever.I need to know.”
“Why?”
“Because I do, okay?”
He flinched at my sharp tone.Guilt immediately pricked me.I dragged in a breath.“Sorry.I’m tired.I didn’t sleep much last night.”
He turned down Town Hall Street and parked in front of the town offices.After cutting the engine, he twisted in his seat to face me.
“Whatever this is, Piper, I’m here to help.We’ll figure it out together.”He reached for my hand.
His fingers closed around mine, warm and steady, and my heart did a ridiculous little jig.“Okay,” I said softly.“I’m… scared.I don’t know what to think about all this.”
“I know.Me either.”He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my fingertips.
The brush of his lips sent bright little zings straight to my chest.All I could think about was those same lips on mine, tasting chocolate and sugar and trouble.
Then he let go—far too soon—and climbed out.I followed him up the steps into Town Hall.
Louise Sandpepper was still stationed behind the front desk like a troll under a bridge.She’d been the town’s unofficial gatekeeper since I was a kid.Back then I’d thought her name was Sandpaper, which honestly fit better.Now she was older, rounder, and still dressed in clothes that didn’t believe in age-appropriateness.Today it was a black-and-white polka dot dress that showed more knee than anyone needed to see.
