Page 110 of Magical Mischief

They looked like they’d walked through a windstorm to get here.

“We’re fine,” Nova said before they could speak.

Stella stepped closer.

“Fine?” she repeated, arching a brow. “The whole street lit up like solstice night. I thought your shop had caught fire.”

My mom leaned past her, eyes searching for me. “Maeve?”

“I’m okay,” I said, stepping into the light. “Just… a reading. Got a little intense.”

Stella huffed. “Intense? You think?”

Nova stepped aside to let them in. “We didn’t break anything. Just stirred something that didn’t want to stay quiet.”

That wasn’t exactly comforting.

Still, my mom crossed the threshold without hesitation. Stella followed, muttering about wards and foolish witches.

The room hadn’t gone back to normal. The smoke from the spirit press still lingered in the corners, and the candlelight clung to everything like it didn’t trust the shadows yet.

My mother came to my side and reached for my hand. I let her take it.

“You sure you’re alright?” she asked.

I nodded. “Whatever it was… it didn’t try to hurt me.”

Nova leaned against a shelf, her arms crossed. “It was watching. Curious. Not a ghost. Not something dead.”

Stella let out a sharp breath. “So it’s alive?”

“Not in the usual way,” Nova said. “It’s something else. Old. And close.”

“Close as inhere?” my mom asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Nova tilted her head. “Not anymore. But it left a trace.”

Stella narrowed her eyes at me. “And this trace? Has it touched you before?”

I hesitated. “I think… maybe. I’ve felt it near the Butterfly Ward. That same feeling. Like someone breathing behind me.”

My mom gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

Stella walked toward the middle of the room, sniffing at the air like a hound. “This is why I stay on my side of town. Tea leaves don’t knock your windows out of alignment.”

Nova smirked. “You say that, but you had a scone recipe hexed for two years.”

“One time!” Stella snapped, but her tone was already warming. She waved toward the small electric kettle near the counter. “Boil water, please. My nerves have had enough.”

Nova moved without comment, flicking the switch with a flick of her wrist. The sound of water starting to warm was the first ordinary thing to happen in the last twenty minutes.

I sat down on the little bench near the bookshelves. My mother joined me, holding my hand like she wasn’t ready to let go. I didn’t blame her.

Across the room, the smoke had mostly faded, but the feeling hadn’t. That press of attention. That sense of something halfway through a sentence it hadn’t finished saying.

“What now?” I asked, looking at Nova.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Now? We stay alert. It made itself known, which means it wanted you to feel it. That isn’t a mistake.”