Chapter 8

You’re as white as a sheet,” Theo said, pulling me inside. “Oh, it’s gotten chilly, and—what in the earth?”

I followed Theo’s gaze back outside as I tried to steady my breath. The concrete in front of the door, right where I had been standing, had a large crack in it. Several large cracks actually. Like something heavy had fallen on it.

“How strange. I’m sure that wasn’t there yesterday.” She shrugged. “Oh well, never mind that now. I’m just so thrilled to see you.”

My former boss ushered me all the way into the shop and sat me down on a stool by a tall wood table. The intermingled smells of orange peel, cloves, tea, and old books instantly filled me with a happiness I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.

“I was just making a batch of Earl Grey, and you look like you could use one.”

“That would be wonderful.” I smiled as Theo’s thin figure rushed over to the boiling kettle by the old wood counter. Lovely Leaves wasn’t just a bookstore; Theo also sold and served loose leaf tea. She was a master at making the perfect cup. I always felt she had just a touch of magic to her. Many people did. Their abilities usually manifested in a talent of some sort.

“Why didn’t you let yourself in?” Theo called back to me. “Where’s your key?”

I smiled. That was such a Theo thing to say. “Seeing as I haven’t worked here in over a year, I thought it might be a little rude to just let myself in.”

“Nonsense. That key’s good for life,” she said, bringing my tea over and placing it in front of me. Theo never forgot I liked just a dash of milk. She always remembered how everyone liked their tea.

I took a look around the shop. It was such a special place. I loved everything about it. Its creaking wood floors. The prized rare books underneath the glass by the counter. The two-hundred-year-old fireplace Theo spent a fortune to keep up to code. The beautiful antique grandfather clock. Keeping it wound had been one of my jobs, along with watering the plants, and picking up the mail. Theo didn’t like to focus on mundane details. Not when there were books to discuss. Speaking of books, I eyed the towering stacks that had popped up around the shop. I used to be the one to reshelve them. I had to hand it to Theo, though; even with the seemingly random piles, I knew she would never forget where she had placed a single text.

I took a steadying sip of the hot liquid before me.

“That’s better, now, isn’t it?” Theo said with a smile.

“It is.”

“It’s so good to see you here, Brynn.”

“It’s so good to be here,” I answered, meaning every word, “but I have to be honest, I’ve come for more than a visit.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Constance Graves.”