‘My side,’ said Bonnie, amused. Fair. She sipped her lemonade.
Tessa held up her hands. ‘I am absolutely not getting in the middle of that. But come on. We all know that the two of you have a weird dynamic.’ She let out a breath. ‘Which is why I wanted to ask you something.’
‘Go on,’ said Bonnie warily. This was going to be an Effie thing, wasn’t it? Tessa was going to ask her to be extra nice to Effie and say something to give her self-esteem a little boost.
‘Is there something going on? With the bar?’ asked Tessa.
Bonnie almost choked on her lemonade. ‘What do you mean by “going on”?’
‘It just feels like there’s maybe something in the water recently. Everyone’s...forgetful, even for Yellowbrick Grove.’
Bonnie chuckled, but she could feel the hysteria bubbling up as Tessa trained that thoughtful, bespectacled gaze on her. Tessa was no fool. Bonnie had been around while Effie and Tessa had watched dozens of murder mystery shows together over the years, and Tessaalwaysguessed whodunnit. But the murderers on TV didn’t have Bonnie’s charm. Or facility at lying, which she’d honed over years of truancy and reassuring her friends that cutting your own bangs was a great idea.
‘I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary,’ she said, pretending to think on it. ‘Although to be fair, I’m mostly dealing with drunkards. And I mean, the two of you seem fine, and you’re in here all the time.’
‘You’re right,’ said Tessa slowly.
Alana emerged from the bar, looking triumphant. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I helped myself to some cookies. Oh, and barista Terrance left these.’
She held up the ratty pack of playing cards that Terrance had been working so hard to memorize.
‘See?’ pressed Tessa, as Bonnie took the playing cards, admiring their quaint folk-art style. Maybe she’d do him a favour and drop them off at the coffee shop. It was the least she could do. Well, that and bring up the latte art talent option instead.
‘See what?’ asked Alana, but only with passing interest. She checked her phone. ‘It’s Hannah. Hey, babe!’ she said, putting it to her ear. ‘No, not the Dorothy House. Tessa’s art studio. And don’t park near the hydrant. Officer Brigsley’s on a rampage at the moment. Yes, Iknowyou’re terrible at parallel parking.’
She rang off.
‘Want to join us?’ she asked. ‘Hannah’s on her way. Or so she says.’
Bonnie yawned. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘So long as we have time for a coffee first.’
Fifteen minutes later, coffees in hand (and playing cards delivered to Terrance), the trio arrived outside what might become Tessa’s new art studio. Hannah was parked wonkily down the tiny laneway to one side of it, the trunk of her car far enough out in the street that she was definitely risking a ticket. But at least she wasn’t in front of the hydrant. This time.
‘Got you a matcha,’ said Alana, passing a giant smoothie to Hannah, who was in somewhat of a state. Her usually perfectly flat-ironed hair was damp and twisted up in a clip, as if she’d just stepped out of the shower, and she was wearing false lashes on her right eye only.
‘Roll out of bed on the wrong side today?’ asked Bonnie.
‘Ugh, that’s not even the half of it,’ groaned Hannah. ‘My alarm didn’t go off, then I forgot to put the pitcher under the drip coffee – it went everywhere. Everywhere! Then my hair straightener didn’t heat up. Then I put cold-sore cream on my toothbrush. And then I apparently forgot to fill up the car last night, so I had to stop for gas. But no one was there, so I drove here on fumes. Well, the Dorothy House first. And then here. It’ll be a wonder if I make it back home. I think’ – she lowered her voice – ‘I’m cursed. Do you think curses could be real?’
‘I mean, sure,’ said Bonnie, sipping her coffee as she tried to hide her growing sense of panic. ‘But think about it. Why would anyone go to the effort of cursing you?’
‘Plenty of people hate me, Bonnie,’ Hannah snapped. ‘I’mjustas influential as you. Realtors are highly controversial. People loathe us for our success.’
This was a better take than Hannah pinpointing the realculprit here: Bonnie’s delicious yet mind-numbing charmed drinks.
‘How about we just go inside?’ suggested Alana calmly.
Hannah glared at the digital door lock flashing at her as it demanded a code. ‘Hang on, it’s in my notes app...’
She pulled out her phone, which flashed, then promptly died. A bestial groan started up in her throat.
‘Here, let me,’ said Bonnie, stepping in before Hannah transformed into a werewolf or something (stranger things had happened in this town, after all). ‘Can you turn away for a sec? I don’t want you to be accessories to a crime. And not even matching accessories.’
The others did as requested.
She held her hands over the lock, letting magic sparkle through her wrists. It was coming more easily to her now, even if she was exhausted. The lock beeped, then smoked, and the door opened.
‘How did you do that?’ marvelled Alana.
