BooksBarbecue
Back Spells for Lost Things
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

Her cheeks flush pink again, and for a moment I think she’s going to shut me down, but then she nods. “You’re right. Fair is fair.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m really interested in traveling the world. And by interested, I mean I’m obsessed. My whole bedroom is covered in pictures of places I want to go, and I have a list at home with over a hundred places I plan to visit. It’s literally the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about when I go to sleep. But sometimes when I think about it, I feel…” She exhales and her shoulders drop. “I get so scared it isn’t going to happen.”

A tiny plume of surprise rises in my chest, both for what her life goal is and also for her worry. Travel isn’t exactly something that is on my radar. I know a lot of people are into it, but I’ve moved so much that sometimes I think I like the idea of staying still somewhere more than I like the idea of going somewhere new. But according to Willow’s intense expression, this is a huge deal to her. Why is she doubting herself? Willow seems like the kind of person who should have limitless confidence. “Where do you want to go? Give me a few examples.”

“The Pink City,” she says automatically. “It’s in India. Its real name is Jaipur, and most of the buildings are a dusty pink color because it’s the color of hospitality and in the 1800s the leader painted the entire city in order to welcome a visitor from the British monarchy. It has all these palaces and forts, and there are elephants walking around mixed in with cars, and at night the people fly kites from the rooftops.” She sighs, pulling her knees to her chest.

Okay, I can see what she means. That does not sound terrible. “Where else?”

“Cinque Terre. It’s on the Italian Riviera and it means ‘five hills.’ Each hill has a fishing village built into cliffs, with a hiking trail that connects them all.”

She looks at me expectantly. I’m enjoying picturing these places with her, but more than that, I’m enjoying watching her face light up in the darkness. “Continue,” I say.

“Machu Picchu in Peru, Madagascar, Cambodia, Iceland, Ecuador…Want me to keep going?”