Page 65 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Magic & Murder (The Hemlock Saga #1)

Saga returned, narrowly dodging Riddle as he retreated from Audrey’s gaze.

She glanced after him and sighed. Coward.

Though she couldn’t say she blamed him. She set her purse on the table and retrieved the business card, flashing it at her mother as she did.

She dialed the number, and placed the call on speaker.

It barely rang once before the automated voicemail picked up.

“You’ve reached the personal office of Reese Bowen.

We are not accepting calls at this time, but leave word and someone will reach out between the hours of nine a.m. and five p.m., Monday through Friday.

Thank you.” It chirped an abrupt beep through the phone.

Maintaining eye contact with Audrey, Saga forced another smile.

“Hi Mr. Bowen, this is Saga Trygg. I’m calling to set up a time to retrieve my grandmother’s photographs at your earliest convenience.

You may reach me at this number. Thank you.

” She hung up and it took all of her willpower to not make a snarky comment.

“There is never a convenient time for a lawyer, you should have said as soon as possible, given that we are planning a funeral of our own.”

Breathe. “Bearing that in mind, I won’t keep you any longer.”

Audrey saw right through the attempt to shove her out the door and pointedly ignored it. She gestured around the room with a dismissive hand. “You’ve made holes in the walls and painted. You have a cat.”

“That’s Grandma’s cat. Are you worried I’m going to drive down the property value?”

“I’m worried you’re driving down your value.” Audrey’s nose scrunched in displeasure at the cozy surroundings. “Such as it is, you have made a home here. You’re planning on staying for some time?”

Saga adopted Riddle’s deadpan blink. “That was the general plan, yes.”

“The general plan to systematically self-destruct your life?” Her face twisted into a scowl. “Is this still about that man?”

That man. Not Hugh. Not her fiancé, but “that man.” If her mother ever took the time to learn one specific detail about her life, Saga might die from shock. “No, Mom, it’s about me.”

Audrey either didn’t listen, or she didn’t believe her, and carried on. “He did you a favor. You’re lucky he left before you got into any legal entanglements. Or children. A child can ruin a promising life.”

“She said to her only daughter,” Saga narrated wryly.

“Don’t get emotional,” Audrey dismissed.

A spark of anger flared in Saga’s eyes, but she otherwise remained expressionless. “Humor is actually a deflection when I’m avoiding emotion.”

Audrey harrumphed and began stalking slowly around the main room, scrutinizing every detail. “That would explain this ridiculous lifestyle choice, as it could be nothing short of a joke. Forgive me that I don’t find it particularly funny.”

“I’m trying to figure things out.”

“You can figure things out while you finish your medical training.”

Deep breath. “I don’t know if I want to be a doctor anymore.”

It was enough to give Audrey pause and force her to look back at Saga. “Don’t be stupid. Of course you do.”

Hold on to it. Don’t back down. Despite all her scrutiny, Iona was right: there was still some desperate part of her that needed her mother’s approval.

Saga tried to imagine her grandmother at her side, holding her hand.

“No, I don’t. It’s what you wanted. And what Hugh wanted.

And in some weird way, I’d convinced myself it was what Dad would have wanted. But it’s not what I want.”

The disbelief and irritation on Audrey’s face were unmistakable, but she drew herself up and stated coolly, “People do not drop out of their second foundation year to become bakers.”

“Maybe I do.” Or perhaps she would become an investigator—but that wasn’t the sort of career change to spring on her mother now.

As she was only just catching up on Saga’s life decisions, proclaiming that she’d taken an interest in private investigation would undoubtedly have been taken as confirmation that she was unhinged and directionless.

Audrey rubbed her eyes. “Isn’t your ex-fiancé announcing his new engagement barely three months after leaving you at the altar embarrassing enough for this family? Must you add injury to that insult?”

The warmth drained from Saga’s face and extremities. “What?”

Audrey made her way back to Saga like she was approaching the bench. “You were top of your classes at Oxford, you were recommended highly by your professors, you could have had any fellowship you wanted, but you’re determined to throw it all away. And for what, to make coffee? It’s disgraceful!”

Disoriented and off-balance, Saga tried again. Her mouth felt dry. “Hugh…is engaged?”

If it were possible, the disappointment on Audrey Hudson’s face deepened.

“Sometimes I wonder if I did you a disservice by letting my mother raise you.” She shouldered her purse with a deep sigh.

“Call me when you have the photograph. I’ll be staying at the Clermont at Charing Cross until Saturday.

” And as abruptly as she’d come, she let herself out the door.

It wasn’t until Saga heard the second door close that enough feeling returned to her form that she was able to look down at her phone once more.

Numbly scrolling through the contacts until she found one she trusted, she made a second call, bringing the phone to her ear. It rang nearly four times until—

“Hello?” The voice on the other line sounded a little hurried.

Saga flinched. “Hey Mags, did I wake you?”

“Nah,” the voice assured. “I had night shift at the hospital last night, and got home about thirty minutes ago. Couldn’t find my mobile. I’m making brekkie. What’s up with you? Are you okay? You’ve got that tone…”

No. There were many words to describe what she was feeling, but “okay” was not one of them. “My mother stopped by—”

“That would do it.”

Saga laughed half-heartedly, but it eased the tension building in her chest. “Yeah, she’s a piece of work…” She swallowed, feeling her throat tighten again. “Um… Look, she mentioned something…”

“Oh God. Was it the Hugh thing?”

The Hugh thing. It was a thing now. “Yeah.”

“Jesus, could there have been a worse way for you to hear that? I’m sorry, Saga, I’ve been meaning to call you, but they’ve had me on the late shift for the past month, and you’ve been opening—and with your grandmother passing, I didn’t know how to… I’m so sorry.”

“I understand.” Saga’s voice was hoarse. “So it’s true?”

Magdalena seethed on the other line. “He’s such a prat.

” The words spat angrily out of the receiver.

“Three months, really? Three bloody months? He couldn’t have had the decency to at least pretend he hadn’t just jilted you at the fucking altar?

Man has no goddamn shame. He put it in the paper!

To tell you the truth, we were all worried you would read about it before one of us got to talk to you. ”

Saga cleared her throat. “We?”

“Yeah, you know, Darcy, Peregrine, and me.” Her school friends—they’d all taken different paths.

Magdalena had continued her medical training, Darcy was now a seamstress at a Couture house on the other side of London, and Peregrine was working as a fact-checker for news stories on the BBC.

“We were gonna see if we could all get a day off together, steal you away for bevvies and bitching. We thought that might soften the blow, you know? I mean, who does that? It’s ballsy enough to propose to another woman when you’re still sending back wedding presents, but to put it in the Sunday Times?

Perri looked it up, she said he had to have dropped at least ￡600 on the thing.

Fuck! Is he completely dead from the neck up or did he actually want you to see it? ”

Did he? All this time Saga had been trying to comfort herself with the knowledge that being left had very little to do with her.

Hugh and Lana were still in love, they’d never stopped loving each other, so what chance could she have possibly had?

But now… Announcing it in the paper—and not even the local paper but the Sunday Times.

It wasn’t simply making it public, it was making a scene.

Her eyes stung as they began to water. Needing something to busy herself, she fished her wallet from her purse again to put away the solicitor’s card.

“Don’t let it get to you, babes. He’s showing his true colors now. Smug, selfish, and so far up his own ass, if his skeleton was found by archaeologists, they’d mistake him for an Ouroboros.”

Saga tucked the phone against her shoulder to hold it in place and as she opened her wallet to put away the card, something else fell out.

“Oh God, nothing? I thought for sure, that would make you laugh.”

Saga set her purse down and took the phone back in her hand again, forcing a smile so that Magdelena would hear it in her voice. “No, I smiled. I’m sorry, it was funny, I’m just…” Her eyes trailed to the object that had fluttered to the floor. She crouched down to retrieve it.

“You don’t deserve this shit, Saga. He really is the worst. God, someone should give him a taste of his own medicine.”

It was Iona’s business card. “What?”

“I hope she leaves him at the altar! The very least he deserves, if there’s any God-given justice in this world.”

Saga cautiously picked up the card and stood, reading the words beneath Reprise’s logo: Accept the Justice You Deserve. She swallowed. “Hey Mags… Can I call you back?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah… Something just came up.”

“Okay, but girls’ day soon?”

“Absolutely.”

“Smashing. I’ll be in touch.”

Saga barely heard the phone hang up. Her eyes never leaving the card, she slowly set the phone on the table.

No. It wouldn’t be right.

But she gripped the card between her thumb and forefinger tighter.