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So, Merlin and I are working in the craft room, filling some orders and making candles. It’s my happy place.

“Hey, you little thief.” I laugh and take the wick that Merlin found to play with away from him, returning it to the pile. “You always did like to steal the wicks. Okay, we have close to twenty orders to fill, and I’d like to make forty candles so I have them ready to go for future orders.”

I love the feel of the room with all its windows that let in so much light. I feel a little guilty that Giles gave up his sunroom for me, but then again, it was empty when I arrived.

He didn’t use it anyway.

To make the space look bigger, Giles brought in a beautiful, antique mirror his mother gave him and placed it in the corner. It has golden, gilded edges and stands on an easel so it’s high enough to see yourself in and tips up just ever so slightly. It adds light and the illusion of space, and I enjoy it.

As the wax slowly melts for the candles, I print off all the packing slips for the orders and grab the baskets I use to set each order in before packaging and shipping.

It’s been the easiest way for me to keep everything straight.

“This person bought quite a lot,” I inform Merlin, reading the packing slip. “And she wants me to choose some things for her intuitively, which is always fun. I don’t know why, but I think she needs a new tarot deck, so we’ll toss one of those in there, as well.”

I make my way down the shelves Giles built for my stock and pull the items from the slip, setting them in the basket.

And then I do the same for the rest of the orders. By the time I’m finished with that, the wax is melted and ready to pour.

It’s a steady process of placing the wicks, pouring the wax, then letting them set while I return to the orders. Before the candles are completely dry, I add herbs, crystals, and trinkets to the tops.

“This isn’t so bad. I’m not even going to let myself feel guilty for not being at the loom.” I wink at Merlin, who blinks back at me, making me smile.

Seeing something out of the corner of my eye, I glance up and grin as a blue jay flies by the window.

But then my gaze lands on the mirror.

I blink. Several seconds later, my reflection blinks.

I watch myself blink.

“What the—?”

The image doesn’t mirror my actions of taking a step back for several seconds but then follows suit. I’m officially freaked out.

My heart pounds as I reach up to brush my hair out of my face. The reflection doesn’t move at all.

In fact, she just watches me.

“Well, this is new.” Mentally, I lift my protective shields and watch as the reflection in the mirror smiles at me.

She freaking smiles.

I don’t run away. Everything in me is telling me to flee, but I refuse to give whatever this is any power over me.

I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with being afraid.

So, rather than run, I walk right up to the mirror. I’m fascinated when the edges of the glass start to form ice crystals.

They spread until the entire surface is covered, and I can no longer see the reflection at all.

I pull my sleeve over my hand to clear away the ice and then jump when I see what’s staring back at me.

The three of us: Lucy, Lorelei, and me, standing hand-in-hand. The daughters of daughters, looking at me with so much pity and sadness that it almost takes my breath away.

“What’s wrong?” I ask aloud. I can see my breath in the now-frigid air of the room. “Tell me what to do.”

“You’re going to fail,” they say in unison, in almost a chant. “You’re no good, and you’re going to fail.”

The mirror ices up once more, and for the second time, I clear it away with my sleeve.

But the three women are gone. The sunroom is no longer in the reflection at all. I feel as though I’m gazing out a window, but I have no idea what I’m looking at outside. It’s stormy, with big, angry, black clouds, and lightning flashes in the sky. Trees blow in the wind.

I narrow my eyes and look closer, seeing the sea in the distance.

“Lorelei.” I hear myself breathe her name as I watch her walk onto the jagged rocks. Her dark auburn hair swirls around her, and she’s in a red dress, also billowing in the wind.

“Lorelei!” I yell out for her, wanting desperately to make her hear me. But I know she can’t. This isn’t real.

None of this is real.

“This is another trick.” My voice is a whip of anger. “I’m so sick of what you’re doing to confuse me. You don’t hold any power here, and that just pisses you right off, doesn’t it? Get out. Get out now.”

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