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Chapter 4. Jen
It was almost midday by the time I finally reached the outskirts of Headless Hollow.
The bus had only taken me so far, dropping me off in the nearest mortal town, leaving me with a two-hour trek through the forest to reach the monster-only village. By the time I stumbled onto the familiar winding lane, my feet ached, my stomach grumbled, and my tea was long gone.
I held my breath as I neared the weathered mailbox at the end of the drive, exhaling only when I saw the nameCadmusstill painted—though flaking and barely legible—on the side. They were still here. Not that either of them would be particularly thrilled to see me. But that was a problem for later.
Because a few more steps down the path, and there it was. My home.
Still waiting for me.
The moment my eyes landed on it, my throat tightened, and before I could stop myself, I burst into tears. I ran toward it, tears streaking down my face as it threw its shutters open in excitement at the sight of me.
And then, just as suddenly, everything slammed shut.
The entire house seemed to bristle, its excitement snuffed out in an instant, as if it had just remembered it was furious with me for leaving. The porch light flickered, as if to say,Oh. It’s you.
I wiped at my tear-streaked face, sighing. Yeah. This was going to take some smoothing over.
The houses of the Briar Coven were each imbued with powerful magic, every one possessing a unique personality, distinct from its neighbors. And while they weretechnicallysentient, they had their limitations. They could feel emotions,form deep bonds with those who lived in them, but at their core, the magic was innocent, uncomplicated... trusting.
It didn’t always recognize when it was being manipulated.
It didn’t always understand when someone was dangerous.
Which was exactly what I was banking on.
I prayed to all the Gods and Goddesses I could think of that the house hadn’t connected the dots that night, that it hadn’t realized that my parents crashing the car was connected to me tampering with the brakes just moments before.
Guilt crashed over me like a wave. It didn’t deserve to have their murderer standing on its porch, trying to sweet-talk her way back inside, just because she had nowhere else to go.
I stepped onto the creaking porch, and the house shuddered beneath my feet in warning.
I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back,” I said softly, running my fingers over the bramble carvings that twisted up the wooden pillars. “You must have been so lonely here on your own.”
Something moved behind the small, frosted window in the front door.
BooDini.
When I was seven years old, I thought it would be hilarious to cut eye holes into a bedsheet and ask the house to animate it so I could play a prank on my parents. The house enjoyed the prank so much, it had embodied the sheet ever since.
“I would have come back sooner if I could,” I murmured, placing my hand on the door handle. I twisted, but the front door didn’t budge. I tried again, rattling the handle. “Please let me in?” I pleaded.
The window shutters flung open dramatically, before slamming shut again with absolute finality.
“Oh, c’mon, BooDini! Please?” My voice wavered as I rattled the doorknob violently, but it still didn’t budge. I braced a footon the plinth, gripping the handle with both hands, and pulled with everything I had, but the house held firm, stubborn in its refusal to let me in.
Fine. Change of tactics.
I exhaled and softened my tone. “Please?” I tried again, pressing my palm against the wooden door. “I don’t want to stay anywhere else. You’re the prettiest, most comfortable house for miles, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
It wasn’t a lie.
The house seemed to hesitate, the shutters stilling for the briefest moment. Then, one swung open.
BooDini floated into view, its sheeted form rippling, its hollow, black eyes fixed on me.
A sharpcracksounded from the door, and a sign materialized out of nowhere, the wordsNO VACANCIESpainted on it. I glared at BooDini, who narrowed its cutout eyes at me and pointed its little sheet arm toward the sign.
Table of Contents
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