Luna, to her credit, didn’t miss a beat.
“Oh, you noticed! That’s our timed demonstration motion-activated display. New shop feature! We’re testing it to see how long it’ll keep customers’ attention.”
Celeste blinked again. “It lookedso real.”
“It’s animatronics,” I added quickly. “Luna’s husband used to work with tiny motors. Very lifelike.”
Keegan coughed, clearly trying not to laugh. I shot him a glare.
Celeste nodded slowly, but her brow furrowed, like her instincts didn’t fully buy it. Still, she let it go. For now.
Luna swept in like a breeze.
“I’ve got some cashmere that wants to meet you,” she said to Celeste, leading her deeper into the shop with the kind of cheerful distraction only a thread witch could manage.
Skye followed, humming and holding her belly, her eyes dreamy as she drifted toward a wall of mossy greens.
Keegan leaned close, voice low. “That was... close.”
“Too close,” I said, pulse still tapping beneath my ribs.
He gave me a look, one I’d come to know far too well.
“She’s sharp,” he said eventually. “Smart. She’s already asking questions.”
“I know,” I whispered. “And every answer I give is a lie.”
He put a hand on my shoulder, warm and steady. “You’re doing your best.”
“I just don’t know how long my best will keep her safe.”
Because the sweater wasn’t the only thing unraveling.
The veil between my worlds was thinning, and Celeste was standing right on the seam.
And seams?
They tear.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The second my boots hit the cobblestones outside Luna’s yarn shop, I felt it.
A gentle warmth, low and sudden, spreading across my skin like the touch of a sunbeam, but not from the air or light.
From my butterfly mark.
It pulsed just beneath my waistband near my hip, a subtle flutter at first, then warmer, as if something inside me was stirring awake.
I froze.
Keegan, who had been talking to Skye about the best bakery in Stonewick, looked back and noticed the stillness in my face.
“What is it?” he asked, tone shifting.
I touched the spot just above my hip. “The mark.”
Celeste glanced over with a grin, oblivious to the alarm sparking along my hip.
