There weren’t many other cars out this early. I passed Myrna on her way into town, then turned on the road that led higher up into the mountains toward Barry’s. The road was narrow and I noticed a familiar black pick-up truck coming down the other way.

Whose car was that? I squinted toward it and recognized the head of white hair. Bing Thorndike.

I raised my hand in a greeting, but he didn’t seem to see me, his eyes focused on the road, which he was traveling down rather fast.

“I wonder where he’s going?”

Pandora sneezed and hopped into the back, running to the hatch to stand up and look out the back window.

A few seconds later, I pulled down the lonely road that led to Barry’s, then drove my Jeep up the gravel driveway and parked in front of his 1800s farm house. Next to the house was a big barn he used as his antique shop. The shop wasn’t open yet, so he’d told me to come right to the house where he was holding the box of books for me.

I cut the engine, then turned to Pandora, who had hopped back into the passenger seat. “You stay here.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. Then, as I opened my door, she shot out and ran onto Barry’s front porch.

I slipped out of the Jeep, wincing in surprise as I landed on my bad leg. The pain had been getting much better and I’d almost even forgotten about it, but I must have twisted it or something, because it was throbbing now.

I rested for a few seconds, stretching my leg and wishing I had some Iced Fire to rub on it, then started toward the porch. A cloud passed over the sun, sending a chill into the air, as I stepped onto the old wooden boards. A light wind kicked up some of fall’s leftover leaves and I watched them swirl around the steps in a circle.

Barry had put his screen door on already—or still had it on from last summer—I wasn’t sure which. I wrapped my hand around the iron handle, thick with layers of green paint, and pulled it open with a squeak. Raising my fist, I tapped on the wooden door, my heart leaping in my throat when it swung open under the light pressure of my tap.

“Barry?” I peeked through the crack of the open door, not sure if he meant for me to just walk in.

He didn’t answer, and I felt the roots of doubt spreading in my stomach.

“Hello. It’s me, Willa,” I said even louder.

“Mew!” Pandora looked up at me impatiently then pushed her way through the door, causing it to swing open. She trotted into the living room, sniffed the air, then headed toward the kitchen.