But Icouldmake sure she returned to one that wouldn’t take her from me.
The moment I ended the call with Celeste, I walked over to the chest where I’d placed the stone Nova had given me back at the cottage not so long ago.
I picked it up and stared at the softly glowing crystal in my hand, heart still full and aching in equal measure. It had been good to see her face, even through a glimmer of static and the harsh lighting of her dorm room.
These worlds needed to merge someday, but was it too soon?
The question had stirred something else in me, too—something that had been nudging at the back of my heart for weeks.
Skye.
Apart from Keegan, she was the only person who knew me better than I sometimes knew myself. She’d held my hand through heartbreak, through wine-soaked nights and unspoken grief, through the quiet unraveling of my marriage that had long since stopped being mine. And even now, while I wrestled with shadows and cracks in our defenses, and whatever it meant to be a hedge witch… she’d been waiting.
I should’ve called her sooner.
“Call Skye,” I said softly.
The phone flared, and within seconds, her face blinked into view. She looked flushed, radiant, and happy with her hair tied up in a messy knot.
“Maeve!” she cried. “You’re alive!”
I laughed. “Barely. You look like you’re about to pop.”
“I feel like a watermelon smuggled under a heated blanket,” she said, fanning herself. “And I still have three months left.Three, Maeve. At this point, I should be getting hazard pay.”
“I’m so sorry I haven’t called.”
“Don’t you dare,” she interrupted. “I haven’t called you either, so we’re even. That’s why we’re best friends. Mutual neglect, perfectly balanced.”
I laughed again. “It’s awful.”
“It’sperfect.Because when we finally do talk, it’s like we just paused mid-sentence and picked back up three weeks later.”
“It really is.”
She smiled, that slightly mischievous grin I’d missed like air. “So. Tell meeverything.Is Stonewick as charming as it sounds? Did you start baking bread and wearing linen cloaks? Are you dating a blacksmith?”
“Close,” I said. “I’m managing a magical school.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait—what?”
“Just metaphorically speaking!” I added quickly, heart skipping. “It’s a long story.”
“Maeve.”
I waved a hand. “I’ll tell you everything. Soon. Just know it’s weird and wonderful and exhausting.”
She nodded slowly. “That tracks.”
I hesitated. Then, carefully, “Celeste is thinking about coming here for spring break.”
“Oh! That’s great!”
“It is,” I said, smiling. “I mean, I miss her. A lot. And it would be good to have her close. I just—there’s a lot going on. And I’m worried. The town’s… delicate, in some ways. It might be nice to have you here, too.”
“I mean, you live there. How delicate can it be?” She chuckled. “You’re like the Tasmanian Devil, whirling into life, and it’s still standing.”
“Delicate like a teacup filled with slightly cursed tea,” I muttered.
