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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

I’m alone on the roof. The nighttime heat envelopes me instantly, and as soon as my eyes adjust, I forget all about looking for the source of the noise, because how is it possible that this house keeps on getting better? I’m looking at an absolutely magical rooftop garden. The moon is making everything glow a pearly white, and honestly, I didn’t know I needed this space in my life until this very moment. The fence is lined in lights, and a chair has been set up to take in the view of the night sky, and when I turn to look around, absorb the whole scene, I see something that makes adrenaline shoot through my entire body.

There’s a ghost on the roof.

A cute ghost.

But. A ghost.

He has tangled black hair and a bright white T-shirt and sneakers that are so new, they glow in the darkness. He holds an open notebook in front of him, a pen poised over its pages. He looks as stunned to see me as I am to see him.

I manage not to scream. We stare at each other for a moment, his eyes dark and glittering in the light. My entire body tenses, adrenaline shooting through me, then, in one quick movement, he drops his notebook, sending it tumbling to the ground, then disappears over the side of the railing into the darkness, so silent, it was like he was never there at all.

– 12 – Mason

My head is buried in the stars. All I can think is, Why am I here? Send me a sign. Send me something. I’m thinking so hard that I almost don’t hear the creaking of hinges behind me, almost miss the window slowly moving open.

For a moment, my brain won’t recognize what it’s seeing; it’s my body that reacts. I can only see the top half of her, but even so, I recognize the girl immediately. She has long, wavy red hair pulled back into a ponytail, and skin so pale, it glows in the moonlight. At first she’s still, and I think she isn’t going to see me, but then she turns around slowly, and when I catch sight of her face, panic shoots down my arms, pinning me in place. Her gaze is serious and open, her eyes a question. Even without the stormy sea behind her, I know exactly who she is.

It’s the mermaid.

She’s crawled out of the painting, scaled the ladder, followed me onto the roof. In other words, I asked the universe for a sign, and a painting came to life.

And she’s looking right at me.