Page 4 of Trick or Stalk

I laugh. “I call it ‘witchy intuition.’ Not witchcraft.”

“Yes, Miss English Professor.”

My smile fades. “Not yet.”

“It’s a temporary pause from your master’s program. Your grandma had no one else to care for her.”

I know that.

My grandfather died a few years ago. He was fifteen years her senior and had a history of heart disease.

And Evelynn—the woman who birthed me but doesn’t want me to call her mom because it makes her sound “old and past her prime”—would never give up her own life to care for anyone else.

She couldn’t be bothered with me.

I was just an accidental burden.

And when that didn’t help her land the man—or the job—she went back to Los Angeles to chase the next opportunity.

“You’ll finish your master’s. I know you will.”

“Yeah. But then there’s still the doctorate.”

“Which you’ll finish, too.”

“So optimistic.”

“Call it witchy intuition.”

We laugh, and I promise to call her tomorrow before hanging up.

Penny and I turn around at the end of the lane, heading for… home.

It still seems weird calling it that. It’s always been my grandparents’ house.

Then it was my grandma’s.

And now… mine.

I blow out a breath, then inhale deeply, breathing in the fallen leaves and pine sharpened by the crisp, cold air, with chimney smoke lingering in the distance.

Penny’s nose stays glued to the ground, her tail wagging whenever she finds something interesting. A squirrel. A particularly fascinating leaf. A rabbit.

“This is our home now, Penny.”

She looks up at me, studying me for a few beats before her tail wags happily.

I smile, but it fades as I look around the woods. Although they are blooming with color, it doesn’t seem as lively as it did last year.

Of course, last year was different. Grandma hadn’t yet been diagnosed with cancer, and the house was full of laughter, pumpkin spice, woodsmoke, and something sweet baking in the kitchen.

It smelled like Grandma.

It smelled like home.

Now it just smells empty.

I let the grief wash over me as we finish our walk, vowing that tomorrow will be better.