“I think this was mine.”
Without hesitation, I slip the chain over my head. The pendant settles against my chest, and a wave of calm washes over me. The world comes into sharper focus, colors more vibrant, scents more distinct.
“Whoa,” I whisper.
“What?”
“Everything just got... more.” I pick up the sealed letter next, turning it over in my hands. My name is written on the front in the same elegant script.
“Are you going to open it?” Asher asks.
I shake my head, tucking it back into the box. “Not yet.”
I pull out the notebook and flip through the pages. It’s weird to see my printing in the notes and not remember writing any of it. There are little drawings of jars and numbered steps to take when mixing things…
The book is barely used, and it makes me sad to realize my journey of discovery ended so soon. Scanning back to the beginning, I find an inscription.
To my little wildflower,
On this, your sixteenth birthday, I give you all the tools of our people. May you learn and grow and love the life of a Hallowind as I always have.
Blessed be.
“She was teaching me… before whatever happened.”
Asher has moved to one of the tall windows and is looking out at the stone circle. “I bet those stones are important.”
“They’re a focus point… to gather ancestral energy.” The knowledge comes from somewhere deep inside me, as natural as breathing. “My family has been using them for generations.”
I join him at the window, gazing out at the circle of standing stones. In the morning light, they cast long shadows across the grass, like the spokes of an enormous wheel.
“So now what?” Asher asks quietly.
I turn back to the room—my mother’s sacred space—feeling a new sense of purpose blooming inside me. The pendant warms against my skin, and the humming of the house seems to harmonize with my own heartbeat.
“Now we find out what happened to my family.” I take a deep breath, drawing in the scent of herbs and magic. “And I reclaim who I really am.”
CHAPTER FIVE
After a successful hour of snooping, we make our way upstairs to wash up, find Asher something to wear and, hopefully, find a package of unopened toothbrushes under a vanity counter somewhere. My parents’ bedroom stands in a wash of sunlight streaming in through gauze curtains.
“Your dad looks pretty tall in the pictures. Hopefully, he’ll have something that works.” Asher opens the closet door, and his expression drops. “Or not.”
I laugh. “What’s wrong? Do things look too small?”
He frowns and pulls two handfuls of hangers free of the rod and then turns to face me. “Your dad is the farthest thing from metrosexual chic I’ve ever had the horror to witness. My stars, I think you’re the daughter of a lumberjack.”
I take in the assortment of flannel, plaid shirts and burst out laughing. “Yikes. Maybe you can think of it more like cold-weather hiking gear.”
He arches a brow. “Have you ever seen me hike?”
I laugh again and step in beside him. Everything smells faintly of cedar and something warm and masculine that makes my chest ache with longing for a memory I can’t quite grasp.
“What about this?” I pull a long-sleeved, collarless blue shirt off its hanger. “It’s practically a Henley and will look good with your eyes.”
Asher holds it up against his chest and arches a brow. “At least it doesn’t look like a checkerboard.”
I grab a pair of jeans off a shelf and shake them out. “Do you think these will fit?”
