Page 126 of Imperfect Arrangement

Vi’s eyes widen like we handed her the juiciest piece of gossip. “Yes! He’s the owner. Wait—do you guysknowhim?”

“He does…business with Elixir,” Daisy replies slowly.

“I don’t like this. I didn’t trust it when he first talked about it at Quill’s birthday party,” I add.

Daisy nods profusely, looking between me and Vi. “I’m completely with Wills. When Vincent first mentioned it, I thought it was a bunch of BS.”

Elodie gasps, looking horrified, possibly more than either of us. “Vi, if you don’t even know his name, how can you be sure he’s not some fraud?”

“Or,” I add, narrowing my eyes, “a middle-aged predator catfishing you from his mother’s basement?”

Vi groans, throwing up her hands. “You guys, that’snotpossible! The background check they did on me was more intense than any job screening I’ve ever gone through. For a second, I thought I was being vetted for some undercover government operation.”

Before I can ask the million questions crashing around in my head, Violet leans forward, her eyes alight. “Listen, I know you’re worried.” Her voice is steady, like she’s already had this argument with us in her head a hundred times. “But believe me, it’s legit. I’m not allowed to share our chats, but he’s…itfor me.”

Daisy watches her carefully. “So he’s like you?”

Violet laughs, shaking her head. “No. He’s the complete opposite of me.”

Elodie shifts beside me, her skepticism practically radiating off her. “Vi?—”

“I know you’re worried, El,” Violet cuts in before she can protest. “But I feel it. He’s the one. My happily ever after. My one true love. Just like Nori said.”

My stomach twists at the mention of Nori’s predictions. “But do you not remember,” I remind her, “that she also said you’d have to go through a lot of pain to finally find him?”

For the first time, Vi hesitates. She glances away, chewing her lip. “That’s the part I’m waiting for, and the reason I haven’t rushed to meet him.”

“I don’t know, Vi,” I say slowly. “But something doesn’t feel right here.”

“You guys are paranoid.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Everything is exactly as it should be.” Then she turns back to me, leveling me with a look. “And currently, Willow’s thing is way more urgent than mine. So can we please get back to reminding her of what she’s missing?”

I know she’s deflecting, but she’s also right, today I need to confront my own fears.

IT’S ABOUT PEPPER SPRAY, OAT MILK, AND A RACOON

RAYMOND

As soon as Quill and I step up to the ticket booth, Decent Joe greets us with his usual warmth. “Well, well, how are my two favorite people doing this morning?” His eyes crinkle with kindness.

Like always, I hand him a cup of coffee and a bagel fresh from Cherrywood’s beloved Hawthorne Bakery. For the past thirty days, Quill and I have followed the same routine. Every morning, without fail, we come here, take the first special ride, and make our wishes before I drop her off at school.

But today…something feels different.

I glance around, scanning the area, though I can’t put my finger on why. There’s a prickle at the back of my neck, like I’m being watched. My first instinct is to check my phone, but there’s no message from my security team.

God.Am I finally losing it?

Or maybe I’m too damn hopeful, hoping it’s her.

Quill tugs at my pant leg, grounding me once again. “Dad, shall we go?”

“Yeah, Bug,” I reply, shaking off the feeling. “Let’s go.”

We settle into the cabin, and as soon as the ride stalls, bringing us to the top, Quill reaches into her bag and carefully pulls out two sunflowers, their golden petals almost glowing in the early morning light. She hands me one, her small fingers brushing against mine, and I exhale slowly.

We do what we’ve done every morning since that first day. First Quill, then me. We close our eyes and whisper our wishes to the fairies, asking them—begging them—to let Willow know that we’re still here and that she doesn’t have to be scared.

When I open my eyes, I take a deep breath, the view of the town spread out before us. The golden morning light hitting the hills, the soft hum of life below.