The sun is already starting to go down by the time Fina, Mom, and I pull into the driveway of Morning Glory Cottage the next afternoon. My foot has been tapping against the floor the whole way. All day, all I’ve been able to think about is finally meeting Madeline Mitchell.

As soon as we get in the door, I tell Mom that Fina and I are going to walk Boomer.

“I thought you had a project to work on?” Mom asks.

“Fresh air is good for the mind, Mrs. Talbot,” Fina says innocently.

“Well, don’t stay out too long,” Mom says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Dinner is in an hour or so.”

Fina and I walk along High Street, where golden light spills out from the windows of the houses and into the purple afternoon.

When we come to the bend in the road where the church is, we break into a run, sprinting past the orchard and the farm fields until we come to Briar Hollow Lane.

“Looks creepy,” Fina murmurs, staring down the narrow, gravel road with piles of dead leaves strewn across it. “I wish we’d come when it was lighter.”

“Do you want to go back?” I ask, even though I really hope she says no.

“Are you kidding? No way. And Boomer will keep us safe, won’t you, boy?”

Boomer looks up, wagging his tail. Fina and I link arms and start walking. The only sounds are the leaves crunching underneath our feet and Boomer panting happily. The farther we walk, the harder he pulls.

We don’t talk much. I wonder if Fina’s heart is thumping in her chest like mine. If she is also thinking about Jack and Sarah stealing through the hobgoblin king’s castle, looking for a way to the dungeons to free the fairy princess.

Though each corner in the corridor, each flight of steps, brought with it the possibility of new dangers, the children carried on. They had come with a mission, and they would leave with a princess.

After what feels like miles, we round a curve in the road and gasp.

A huge house looms in front of us. There’s just enough light left in the sky to tell that it’s white. It’s three stories, or four if you count the turret that points into the sky. There’s a dim glow on in one of the first-story rooms, but that’s it.

This was a house that was built for a big family. For Christmases and birthday parties and summers packed with distant relatives. And now it’s practically empty. You can tell by its wobbly silhouette that it’s in bad shape, too.

It’s like a beautiful cake baked for a wedding that never happened. And now it’s been left to slowly crumble away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know this was here,” I whisper.