“Wait!” I say, panicked. My instinct is to grab on to a rosebush or dig my feet into the soil. I can’t leave this place, not when I’ve barely scratched its magical surface.

“Willow, please don’t fight me on this,” my mom says. Her voice is heavy with sadness, and now I don’t know what to do. My mom is clearly in pain. But I can’t leave.

Violet seems to sense my dilemma, because she pulls me into a tight hug. “So lovely to meet you, Willow.” She squeezes me hard, her voice suddenly in my ear. “Book of Shadows.”

Before I can even begin to process what those words could mean, she scurries down the path, Poppy by her side.

“Come to moon circle tomorrow?” Poppy asks my mom.

I don’t hear my mom’s response. I’m too focused on the key Violet just pressed into my palm.

– 8 – Mason

I may have oversold my ability to ride a bike.

Simon gets me all fitted up on one of the three bikes in the garage, then he spends about thirty minutes adjusting the seat to its maximum height, then hunting through the garage for an extra helmet. By the time we’re ready, the girls have all gathered in the garage to watch my grand send-off.

Simon’s bike weighs about as much as a paper clip, and the pedals have little domes over the top, which I don’t think I’ve seen before. Isn’t the seat supposed to be bigger? Then I remember what the last bike I used looked like. It had a Snoopy basket on the front and red streamers. This realization does not feel promising.

“Ready?” Simon asks.

“Uh-huh,” I manage. I need to just get this over with. I aim my front tire toward the driveway, push off with my back leg, and pray for a miracle, which obviously doesn’t come. I wobble like a Jell-O mold in an earthquake before crashing to one side and doing a series of hops to keep from toppling over.

“He’s really bad!” Zoe yells happily.

“Do you need some training wheels?” Hazel asks. “Zoe’s bike has some.”

I want to crawl into the recycling bin. “Ha,” I say. “I guess it’s been a while.”

“Girls! Go inside. It takes a minute, plus, we’re still in the driveway. Nice and easy, Mason, it’ll come back to you,” Simon says encouragingly. I can’t think of any way out of this, so I hold my breath and try again. This time I make it about six feet before toppling over.

“See!” Simon says. “So much better.”

We straggle out of the driveway, and I mostly stay upright, then eventually it does start to come back to me a little bit. I’m not good, but it doesn’t feel like I’m going to end up a splat on the concrete either.