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Slumping against the counter, I say, “Maybe. He seems like he’d come in with a wrecking ball. After he found metrespassingin his apartment, he’ll probably evict me. Or at least remove my access to the kitchen. I mean, I couldn’t explain how I got there. Sophie—how did that even happen?”

“Here’s what I know.” She holds up a finger at each point. “I know you’re not a liar, and you’re clearly coherent. This event was witnessed by one other person, so it wasn’t in your head. You actually ended up in his apartment somehow, right?”

“Right.”

“That’s wild.” Sophie leans back a little, smiling a little.

“You … believe me?”

“Of course. I can’t explain it and you can’t explain it, but it happened.”

“Yes,” I say, feeling confident. Even if I have no idea how my closet managed to bend the space-time continuum.

“I mean, we both know the town history,” Sophie says slowly.

“Tall tales, not history,” I argue.

“We’ve heard about the building being magical.”

“And I didn’t think either of us believed those stories.”

Sophie and I don’t discuss it often, but it’s impossible to grow up in Serendipity Springs and not hear the whimsical tales about its good fortune. Or, depending on who you talk to,magic. Our building, specifically, has a lot of lore connected to it. It was impossible to have a conversation with Galentine when shedidn’tmention it. Sophie has always found this fascinating, while I prefer magic to stay between the pages of the fantasy novels we trade back and forth.

Right now, I should be jumping on the town magic train. But despite what I experienced earlier, I’m still struggling with this explanation. Even if I don’t have a better one.

“Clearly, I’m more open to possibilities than you are,” Sophie says. “Which is ironic since you’re the one who experienced something supernatural.”

“It wasn’t supernatural. And the only magical thing about this place is the price of rent.” I pause, then add, “For now, anyway.”

Archer’s face comes to mind again. His hot, rent-increasing face.

“I mean, you know I’m not a firm believer in magic or whatever, but if it’s the best explanation, then why fight it?” Sophie shrugs.

“Isit the best explanation, though?”

“Have you got a better one?”

I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I want to suddenly decide I believe in supernatural or magical events. Even if I might have been part of one.

“No. Could we change the subject, please? I’m starting to get a headache.”

“Fine.” Sophie gives me a devilish grin. “New subject. On a scale of Clooney to Hemsworth, how hot is the new building owner?”

Chapter Four

Archer

By six o’clock thenext morning, I already have regrets in taking on The Serendipity. Or, at least, in staying here. When we realized the furniture wouldn’t be here, Bellamy suggested he book me a suite at the hotel a few blocks away where he’s staying.

I couldn’t articulate my reasons, but it somehow feltsignificantthat I stay here. The kind of gut instinct I don’t ignore.

Now, waking up aching and exhausted, I’d like to fire my gut instinct.

My air mattress leaked slowly through the night, which required me to add more air. Twice. A few hours later, it had almost fully deflated, leaving me like a human hot dog in the center of a floppy air mattress bun.

Physical discomfort aside, my ability to sleep was also hindered by the events of the evening. Specifically, the woman who appeared in my closet with her ridiculous story. I was thrown by the whole encounter, and her face kept popping up in my mind, along with paranoid and intrusive thoughts about someone being in my closet.

I checked the space both times I got up to refill the air mattress. Empty. Thankfully.