“No,” I say. “No, I’m not any good. I’m not even a hobbyist. I have a camera; it doesn’t mean I really know how to—”

“You have a camera?” Alex breathes out in relief. “Brilliant! You’re hired. It only pays in cotton candy and fried hot dogs, I’m afraid, but you’ll work perfectly. Consider it your rent for living with Mom for the week!”

I don’t want to do this. I mean, I do, but I don’t. This is not on plan. Worse, it’s another brick in a wall I will eventually have to knock down.

This trip was supposed to be about figuring out the 101st edition mystery and going home, ready to face my future, but instead I’m sinking into the quicksand that is my love of photography, my hands itching to hold my camera.

“Okay?” Nolan asks.

He won’t push, I realize. If I really don’t want to, they’ll figure out something else. But somewhere the whales are swimming, and they don’t care what I do for one evening, so before I can second-guess it again, I tell Alex, “Yes. I’ll take photos for you.”

I’m surprised when Alex’s arms wrap around my shoulders in a firm embrace.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

And somehow I know he isn’t thanking me for the photography.

chapter fourteen

The next evening, I am transfixed as the snow globe morphs from a lakeside retreat to a glowing festival of color and sound.

Alex was right about the trees. Even though the strands aren’t tightly wound, the sheer volume of lights makes the air crackle with delight and whimsy. If Val’s is an enchanted castle surrounded by a magical forest, then this bazaar is the bustling magical marketplace in stories, where the heroine goes to sell her wares to feed her family.

In the Orman books, Emmeline and Ainsley have a high-stakes chase through a night market. They run as quickly as they can but are constantly besieged by people selling their goods—magic potions, flowers that smell like fresh bread, quilts sewn with black thread that promise to keep them warm no matter how bitter the weather.

I’m beginning to see where Nolan got the idea. From where I stand, I count at least two dozen booths. Most sell handmade goods or food, but the booth closest to me sells succulents and air plants bedded inside glass ornaments. They hang, catching the lights from the trees.

It’s like I’ve fallen into another time.