“I don’t think anyone killed Lavinia on purpose, especially not Ophelia. She does have her demons, but she’s no killer.” Elspeth glanced out into the woods and her eyes took on a faraway look. “Do you remember living in Mystic Notch as a little girl?”

I felt my lips curl in a smile. I had happy childhood memories. “Yes.”

“Didn’t it seem like a magical place?”

“Of course. I loved pretending there were magic fairies in the woods and time spent with my grandmother was always special. Those were happy times.” I remembered that time spent with my grandmother always involved lots of reading. We shared a love of books, which was probably why she’d left me the bookstore.

As a child, I’d read voraciously. Maybe I’d been a bit too much of a bookworm. I’d gotten so involved in some of the books I’d read that I could almost remember some of them coming true. It was probably just my memory fooling with me, but I swore that some of the objects from the books I’d read had appeared in my room.

Like that worn stuffed rabbit I’d had as a child and that favorite locket I had later on as a teen. It seemed like those had been identical to the ones in books I’d read, but I’d probably bought them in the store because they reminded me of the book—my selective memory just didn’t remember actually buying them.

“I bet you never felt that way down south.” Elspeth’s words pulled me away from my thoughts.

I shrugged, wondering what this had to do with Lavinia’s death. “Once you grow up, you lose that carefree, magical feeling you have when you’re a kid.”

“But, maybe you felt some of that magic when you came back here … or shortly before you made your decision to come back.”

My breath caught in my throat. Was Elspeth referring to my strange ability to see ghosts? Certainly, some might think that was magical although I thought it was just a pain in the butt. No, she was probably just referring to that ‘coming home’ feeling that I did experience when I finally made the decision to move back.

As if reading my thoughts, Elspeth said, “Well, it always feels like magic coming home. But Mystic Notch is special. Don’t you feel it?”

She stuck out her hand, waving it back and forth. To my astonishment, a bright yellow and black butterfly drifted over, landed on her pinkie finger and flexed its wings back and forth in the air. Wasn’t it too early in the season for butterflies?

I nodded and stroked Pandora’s silky fur, mesmerized by the slow flexing of the butterfly’s wings.