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Back Spells for Lost Things Save as PDF
Chapters (42)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Prologue
  5. – 1 – Willow
  6. – 2 – Mason
  7. – 3 – Willow
  8. – 4 – Mason
  9. – 5 – Willow
  10. – 6 – Mason
  11. – 7 – Willow
  12. – 8 – Mason
  13. – 9 – Willow
  14. – 10 – Mason
  15. – 11 – Willow
  16. – 12 – Mason
  17. – 13 – Willow
  18. – 14 – Mason
  19. – 15 – Willow
  20. – 16 – Mason
  21. – 17 – Willow
  22. – 18 – Mason
  23. – 19 – Willow
  24. – 20 – Mason
  25. – 21 – Willow
  26. – 22 – Mason
  27. – 23 – Willow
  28. – 24 – Mason
  29. – 25 – Willow
  30. – 26 – Mason
  31. – 27 – Willow
  32. – 28 – Mason
  33. – 29 – Willow
  34. – 30 – Mason
  35. – 31 – Willow
  36. – 32 – Mason
  37. – 33 – Willow
  38. – 34 – Mason
  39. Acknowledgments
  40. More from the Author
  41. About the Author
  42. ALSO BY JENNA EVANS WELCH

His eyes are big and sincere, and for a second I consider actually speaking aloud my frustrations with my mom. Not only about how difficult the past few years have been, but about how shut out I feel. I don’t tell anyone about those things; why do I want to tell him?

It’s probably the influence of the willow tree. Before it can all come spilling out of me, I step out from under a branch.

“I think I’d better go back to my hotel. My mom is going to wonder why I was out so late.”

“Okay, I’ll walk you,” he says quickly.

“No—I think you’d better not. If my mom sees, I wouldn’t be able to explain it to her.”

He considers this for a moment, then turns to glance back at the house. The dark upper-bedroom window faces the tree exactly and we both stare at it for a moment.

“Okay, then I’ll walk you partway.” He steps out from under the tree, then extends his hand to me. “Don’t trip over the roots.”

For a moment, with his hand warm in mine, it feels like maybe everything will be okay. But then I look up at the moon, bright and mysterious, and it makes me think of my mom. Now that I’ve seen her and her shadows up close, she feels even more distant.

And I’m beginning to think that will never change.

– 22 – Mason

Willow says all of ten words on the way back, and I do my best to give her space, filling in the silence by pointing out Venus and Mars, two bright points masquerading as stars. I’m nowhere near wanting the night to be over, but Willow is obviously struggling with her mom, which is a thing I can understand.

She let me walk her to Essex, and then we parted ways. Watching her disappear down the street was terrifying—like watching a mirage fade into a desert landscape. What if this time she didn’t reappear? I had to keep reminding myself that now I had her phone number and that she’d promised to bring my notebook to our ghost tour. Also, not all people disappear.

Of course, thinking of disappearing people sends me spiraling, so once I get back to the Morgans’, I sneak back into the dining room and type my mom’s name into the search engine. I find one Naomi Greer who is a real estate agent in Kentucky, and an obituary of a Naomi Greer who died at ninety-three in North Carolina. Mom’s social media looks exactly the same, but as I scroll through it, I have a new idea. I’ll message everyone she’s friends with to see if they’ve heard from her.