And the more I looked, the more something just…didn’t…feel…right…

* * *

“Would you like us to ring back?”

Words.

Need. Words.

What time was it?

“You did say you wanted a seven a.m. alarm call, miss?”

“Arrgheuthankayou,” was all I managed before dropping the handset down—must apologize later. If it was seven—my train left in less than an hour!

I plugged my phone in that had died overnight and jumped in the shower—not sure why when I could only get dressed in yesterday’s clothes that I’d slept in. The only evidence that I gotten any sleep was the massive pillow crease in my face, but I’d woken up knowing exactly what I had to do.

Today I could finally win the challenge.

Or I could try and do something even harder.

Chapter Nineteen

Holly

Three Days till Christmas

I was worried. Very worried.

That’s why I’d ditched getting ready for the parade later and taken a ride with Pete to pick up some groceries from the farm store, where I could get away from my worries for a bit and check in on Dominic the reindonkey instead.

Ruby’s date with Temi should be about to start—but I hadn’t heard from her all day. I mean, she could just be a capable human who didn’t need to message every minute to help her deal with this… Buuuuuuut, I had no idea what that felt like.

I’d sent her loads of good-luck messages anyway and reminded her to use the mirror I’d gotten her (and magic pebbles now that the universe had confirmed what power she held).

There was no way I was going to make her worry by telling her what had happened on my end. That I’d woken up to the worst message yet from Woody.

And Fred was being weird. Very weird. It was December the twenty-second, and he’d sent me a voice message saying he needed urgent help with our Macbeth English assignment. That wasn’t due in for fifteen days.

Apparently he had to make a start on it now as his sleep was being affected as he—and I’d listened at least ten times to check I’d gotten it right—“kept dreaming he was a modern Lady Macbeth.” Worrying on so many levels. We’d agreed he’d ring me at one to go through it. And I was still mad at Elle, in fact, peak mad now that she was ghosting me. She’d been online as well—her true colors must be finally coming out.

I’d never tell the others, but when she’d refused to speak, I’d left her a message to tell her I didn’t think ditching Fred had been cool. And since then, things had only gotten worse. A lot worse.