“Sure, why not,” she said, lifting a shoulder, as if being mega-possessed was, all things considered, not that big of a deal. “It’s not like I’m going to forget it anytime soon, whether I talk about it or not. It was . . . well, completely fucking terrible. And also phenomenal, the most stomach-dropping thrill I’ve ever experienced. I thought for sure I was going to die if it went on even a minute longer, and at the same time I didn’t want it to ever end. Tough to describe, if you weren’t there.”

I swallowed hard, unable to imagine what that must have been like for her, held suspended between such extremes as she straddled both sides of the veil. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“Well, don’t be. That wasn’t your fault,” she said, as if other things indisputably were. “We all agreed to try. And it worked, didn’t it? Because here we are. Thanks to you, we took the bastards down just like we set out to do. You brought it home for us, for the coven of the spurned.”

Then why, I wondered miserably, wasn’t I happier? I couldn’t feel even a trace of that electric connection between us, as if it’d decayed to nothing and blown away, like a volatile element with a very short half-life.

But just because I couldn’t feel it, that didn’t mean it was gone, just that it was in hiding. And I knew a little something about that, didn’t I?

“So, I’m staying,” I said in a rush, before I could give myself time to second-guess what I was about to say to her. “For as long as it takes me to transcribe this wild-ass ride for posterity, at the very least. After that, I’ll just have to see. But I’ve already let Enchantify know I’m transitioning to working remotely—and they’re okay with it, as long as I still commute for a week or so of in-person meetings each month. So I’m going to sublet my Chicago place and find one here in town instead.”

I could see Talia’s eyebrows lift behind her mask, but she said nothing, as if I’d stunned her into silence.

“Because you were right,” I added. “I have been hiding. I thought I could build myself into someone different, someone new . . . but it turns out maybe that’s not what I want. Maybe I want to be exactly who I was supposed to be. The Harlow scion, a Thistle Grove witch. And Thistle Grove witches always come back, anytime they leave.”

Her lips quirked, just slightly, before she pressed them together, but that was the only sign she gave that she’d even heard me.

“And I had this . . . this maybe wild idea,” I continued, faltering a little at her stonewalling. “Of brokering a partnership with the Arcane Emporium, for some sort of exclusive monthly arrangement for the boxes. Hopefully being the Victor will draw more foot traffic your way regardless. But with this town’s history, and your whole sexy-evil-sorceress vibe, Avramovs are internet gold. And I think I could make a solid pitch to Elena, demonstrate how much inventory you could move if you worked with Enchantify.”