What she did remember, in perfect, crystalline detail, was the loneliness. She remembered how much she’d longed for company. A parent, a sister, a friend. Someone who was there because they wanted to be and not because they were paid handsomely to be. She remembered how terrifying and exhilarating it had been to turn eighteen, to make her own way into the world, and to do Normal Stuff. She’d gone to university (like a lot of other people), had had sex for the first time after a rowdy night out (like a lot of other people), had lived in eleven different cities (this was maybe less like a lot of other people), had made friends (only briefly, which was probably not like a lot of other people), and had, in short, kept herself busy. And yet, somehow, the loneliness had never gone away.

Maybe that was because the loneliest part of growing up, the part she remembered most vividly, was the one thing that had never changed. Magic. As a child, she had discovered the existence of her magic alone, had been afraid of it and then fallen in love with it alone, and had learned to use and control it alone. Even now, thirteen years into adulthood, she continued to experience the joy and wonder of magic alone.

Apart from when she posted her witchy videos online, of course. That was the closest she’d ever gotten to sharing who she really was with anyone.

What wouldn’t she have given to have grown up with more?

Before Mika knew what she was doing, she was out of the car and back at the front door of Nowhere House. Ian must have been spying on her (frankly, she’d have been disappointed in him if he hadn’t) because the door opened before she could knock on it.

“I’m supposed to be moving out of my flat in a month,” she said. “If I come to stay here, I’ll need to bring all my things.”

He squealed like a toddler at a birthday party. “Of course! Anything at all. Everything. All of it!”

“Like my plants.”

“We have plenty of space.”

“And my dog.”

“We love dogs.”

“And my koi. With their pond.”

Ian cocked his head. “An actual pond?”

Mika waited.

“Of course you can bring your koi and their pond,” Ian said. “You can bring a whole bloody lake if you need to!”

“Okay,” said Mika, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. “Then I’ll be back on Friday.”

“You’re a gift from the gods, Mika Moon.”

“Don’t get soppy yet, Ian Kubo-Hawthorn,” she replied. “This is either going to be the miracle you hoped for or it’s going to be an absolute fucking disaster.”

CHAPTER FOUR