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“If he takes a step toward you, or continues to bad-mouth you, personally or professionally, I need to know about it.”

“And you will,” she assured Trey. “I promise. That door’s been closed and bolted on my side for nearly a year. If he can’t do the same on his side?” She shrugged. “He’s going to end up taking more lumps.

“After, I just wanted to clear my head, and Yoda needed a walk, so I took him out back. Everything looks so good. All the work we did, just so beautiful. So satisfying. I wanted to check out the herbs before I went back to work, and I saw Yoda walking into the woods. I called him back, but he kept going. He always comes when I call him.”

She paused, drank. “He went right in while I’m running back there, calling him. I could hear him barking, and I thought he must be chasing a rabbit or squirrel. Then I felt it.”

She took a breath, closed her eyes a moment. “That tug, then thepull. The path turned, and there was Yoda. He sat in front of the mirror on the path.”

“Something happened in the woods,” Trey concluded. “And you needed to see it.”

“Yeah. The glass was blurred, and I could hear hoofbeats. Distant, but I could hear them. I had to go in. I was worried about leaving Yoda, but it’s irresistible. I told him to stay, and he lay down like: Sure, I’ll wait.

“And I went through.”

“Eat something.” Trey nudged her plate, and the slice she hadn’t touched, closer.

With a nod, she took a bite and felt it ease the stress in her head, the hunger in her belly.

“I was still there, on the path, but it wasn’t spring. Fall, chilly, brisk, leaves gone red and gold and orange. But more than that, I could—like in one of the dreams—hear what he was thinking. Almost like he was telling me.”

“Who?” Cleo demanded.

“Arthur Poole.”

She told them, detail by detail.

“He was thinking of his family,” she continued, “of expanding the manor, as he hoped to have grandchildren before much longer. Then she stepped on the path. Dobbs. They didn’t see me. They were ten or twelve feet away, but didn’t see me. He called her a witch, told her to get off his land. She told him she’d tricked his son, Collin, into drinking a potion. That’s how she got him into bed.”

“She bespelled him,” Cleo murmured. “Then she tried to use that as a claim to the manor.”

“He was the eldest, so he’d inherit. But he’s engaged or maybe about to be, right? That complicates things, so she tries sex.” Owen reached for another slice. “But it didn’t do the trick.”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Trey concluded. “Arthur Poole didn’t die in an accident.”

“He was furious. He looked so formidable. Then she brought the wind. He controlled his horse, but she said these words.”

As Sonya repeated them, Cleo pulled out her phone to note them down.

“And she twisted her hands, like you would when you’re wringing something out. I heard it. God, I heard his neck break, then he fell.”

To give herself a moment to steady again, she lifted her wineglass.

“She slapped the horse, and the mare ran down the path toward the manor. She ran right by me like I wasn’t there. Dobbs looked crazy, she had all along, but now she looked jubilant and crazy. He’d been in her way, now he was dead, and she’d be mistress of the manor forever.

“She started to go back into the woods, but she stopped, looked over where I was standing. She didn’t see me. She said, like a question: ‘Seven?’ She said it again and again, said it was a number of power, but I could see she didn’t understand. And it was like she had a sudden headache.”

Sonya pressed her hand to her temple. “She looked confused, and just stark raving mad. She went back in the woods, and looked at him, at Arthur Poole. I realized his family would never know she’d murdered him. Later I realized Collin probably never knew she’d used witchcraft to get him into bed.”

“So guilt on top of grief played a part in his suicide,” Trey concluded.

“I really think so. I came back through. It was spring, Yoda was waiting, the mirror was gone.”

She picked up the slice, set it down again. “I know it’s important to understand what really happened. But it feels so damn useless when there’s nothing we can do to change it, stop it.”

“It’s always better to know than not,” Trey told her. “I can wish you weren’t the conduit, but that’s the reality of it.”

“You accumulate knowledge.” Owen got up to get himself and Trey another beer. “And knowledge is power.”