Noelle’s hands came up to cover her mouth, and Miriam could see tears welling in her eyes. Please, please let this work, she prayed.

“This painting will not join tonight’s sale, but I wanted all of you to be able to see it, because tonight is about hope and having faith in new beginnings.”

Reaching behind her, she pulled the canvas out from where it had been hidden behind one of Cass’s mannequins. Hannah materialized a stand, and together they set it up so the whole crowd could see the velvet-covered frame. Miriam took a deep breath, counted down silently, and pulled the velvet down in a dramatic swoop.

At the bottom of the canvas stood a pair of silver glitter–encrusted Doc Martens, from which roots were growing down into the soil below. Above the boots rose a spectral figure, white rags whipping around her and her face a mask of despair. Over one shoulder, she held a Christmas tree, slung like Paul Bunyan carrying an ax, and at her feet sat Kringle like Babe the Blue Ox. A circle of luminarias surrounded her, and her free hand pointed into the distance, at the North Star.

It was the most personal and most haunting painting Miriam had ever done.

“Who’s the ghost?” called out Jason Green.

“It’s La Llorona,” Noelle said, her eyes never leaving Miriam’s, her steady voice rising above the crowd. “She weeps for the family she lost, always trying to collect a new one.”

“Someone I love has a thing for dangerous women,” Miriam explained.

“Don’t we all!” yelled Annie, her favorite immortal crone who owned the best junk shop in Boise.

“I’ll give you seventy-five grand for it!” someone shouted.

“I’ll give you free fries for life if you hang it at Ernie’s,” Ernie called.

“It’s not for sale,” Noelle said loudly, her tone brooking no argument.

Miriam and Noelle stared silently at each other for several beats, everyone else in the room disappearing from Miriam’s awareness.

“Hey, we’re still here to buy a painting!” one of the Old Ladies reminded them.

Noelle gave a tiny nod that Miriam couldn’t interpret, then mouthed, “Later.”

Miriam had done everything she could do for her love life. Now, she had to save her home.

She brought up the painting for auction and gave a brief overview, including some history of her inspiration while working.

The crowd cheered. “The bidding will start at thirty thousand dollars.”

Miriam was nervous about whether or not anyone on Earth would want to pay $30,000 for one of her paintings, but she had to trust how much these old families loved this place, how far they would go for Cass’s niece.