My voice sounds overly bright, desperate. We both know I’m hoping he will tell me something different than he did before. His grip tightens on my hand as he shakes it in earnest, and he smiles in a way that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yes, I remember.” He sounds careful, like a field mouse trying not to draw a hawk’s attention. “Sorry I couldn’t help you. Did you come all the way from … wherever you came from … to check out the store?”

“Dallas,” I say. “Yeah, something like that. I don’t suppose you know anything else about the edition, do you?”

He shrugs. “Sorry. Wish I could help.”

I sigh. “Me, too.”

We stand awkwardly—him probably thinking I’m some kind of stalker, me wondering if I came all this way for nothing. Maybe the clever wind is the court jester of magical weather individuals. My certainty that coming to this bookstore is an act of Jenna’s delayed will is slipping the longer our silence stretches on.

“Well, since you’re here to look, you might as well enjoy yourself.” Alex brightens somewhat and points to the woman behind the register. “That’s Valerie, my mother and the owner of this fine dog-riddled establishment. She’ll help you if you have any questions.”

“We should have invested in a cat, like all of those sane bookstores,” Valerie calls to me. She still hasn’t come out from behind the counter, so our conversation has turned into some sort of odd oblong triangle. “Though I don’t suppose we had much choice in the matter.”

Alex shoots her a look I can’t quite read as Wally trots to my side, two slobbery plastic bookmarks held between gleaming teeth. When I don’t take them, he drops them on my foot and plops dramatically to the ground, sighing at my lack of interest.

“Well, I’ve got to get back to working the café.” Alex sounds relieved to be done with me. “It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your stay in Lochbrook.”

Part of me thinks I should be more forceful, demanding answers, but a quieter part—a Jenna part?—warns me to wait.

A dormant piece of my soul is stirring at the thought of exploring this bookstore, though, so I make my own magical wind and let it propel me forward to investigate.