"You’re not mad? At me, I mean." Grace studied her hands, embarrassed by how childlike the question sounded.
Caroline snorted. "Darling, absolutely not. You’re my friend. Honesty is really important between us." She patted Grace’s shoulder. "Besides, I had a feeling. The drawer’s been light a few times, and Melissa’s always the last to leave. But I didn’t want to go nuclear without proof. She’s a sweet kid. Just out of school, working two jobs, trying to help her little sister with rent. Probably tells herself she’s just borrowing."
Grace’s stomach clenched. She could picture it: Melissa staring at her own reflection, guilt and necessity wrestling in her eyes. "What will you do?"
Caroline’s smile was small but not unkind. "Tonight, nothing. Not before the tree lighting. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, privately. She deserves that much. If it goes badly, I’ll ask you to keep an eye on her. Not with your powers—just, you know, as a friend." She squeezed Grace’s hand. "You did the right thing telling me. For what it’s worth, that’s something most people can’t do."
She pinned up the last section of Grace’s hair, then unclipped it all with a flourish. "Speaking of which: I know you’re terrified about tonight. So is everyone else, by the way. Even Olivia. She spent all week memorizing the seating chart for the ball in case she has to avoid her ex."
Grace grinned. "Is it really that bad?"
"Worse," Caroline said. "And as for your date?—"
"He’s not?—"
"Save it." Caroline held up a hand, mock solemn. "Bryant has been nursing a crush on you since Halloween. It’s like watching a labrador fall in love with a roomba."
Grace laughed. "That’s not a flattering comparison."
"Are you kidding? Roombas are efficient and unstoppable. Also, you vacuum up all his emotional messes, so the metaphor fits." Caroline dusted stray hairs off Grace’s shoulders and spun the chair toward the mirror. "Look at you. Total knockout."
Grace examined the cut: it was a little shorter, sleeker, and she’d softened her curtain of bangs, using them to fram her eyes. She looked… awake, somehow. Not a new person, but a better-edited version of herself. "I love it," she said, surprised by her own honesty.
Caroline beamed. "That’s what I want to hear." She rummaged in a drawer and handed Grace a tiny vial of something clear and lemon-scented. "For confidence. And static."
Grace pocketed the bottle, then reached up to touch her bangs. "You’re sure you don’t need help with?—"
Caroline shook her head. "Go have fun. Eat something. Enjoy your second Hollow holiday. And if you have another vision, try to let it wait until dessert, okay?"
Grace stood and smiled. "No promises."
As she shrugged back into her coat, Caroline pulled her into a brief, fierce hug. "We’re lucky to have you, Grace. Don’t forget that."
Then, Caroline put on her own coat and let the other ladies know she was done for the day before they headed out. Eager to have lunch with their friends.
Walking out into the cold, Grace felt the words settle into her bones, making her steps lighter as she kept pace with Caroline. The bistro was a block from the salon, tucked behind a florist’s and a bookshop. The warmth hit her first, followed bya rolling scent of cardamom, cloves, and the faintest promise of chocolate. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, each one encasing a candle that flickered. Tiny Christmas trees in mismatched pots lined the sill, their ornaments clearly handmade by the same hands that had painted the bistro’s sign.
Anna and Olivia were already there, tucked into the back corner where the noise of the lunchtime crowd faded to a companionable murmur. Anna wore a navy cowl-neck sweater and jeans, her hair up in a bun that looked elegant instead of lazy. Olivia, by contrast, was in a wine-red suit, her hair slicked behind her ears, makeup done with the precision of a woman who had centuries to perfect it.
"Look who’s finally ready to be seen in public," Olivia called, raising her mug in salute as Grace and Caroline squeezed into the booth.
Anna’s eyes sparkled as she slid over to make room. "And with a new haircut! Grace, you look like a Bond girl."
Grace blushed, but Caroline swooped in to preen. "Wait until you see her at the Ball. I’m still deciding if she gets Veronica Lake waves or braided and up. Depends if she wants to look mysterious or like she’s going to destroy a man’s career with a single glare."
"I can’t compete with that," Anna said, mock-mournful. "I barely managed to get my hair to behave with all this static."
Olivia leaned in, eyes glinting. "The trick is to run a dryer sheet over your brush. Or, get an enchanted brush to neutralize ions.”
A server brought over a tray of mulled cider and four glass mugs, each rimmed with cinnamon sugar. He set down a basket of warm bread, then disappeared.
Grace wrapped her hands around her mug, letting the heat soak through her knuckles. The conversation moved fast: updates on Anna’s husband and his latest obsession withsourdough, Olivia’s battle with the town council over fireworks permits, a brief interlude about Caroline’s feud with the owner of the gym across the street. He’d put up a "before and after" ad featuring Caroline’s photo, with no permission and questionable results.
Grace found herself relaxing, falling into the rhythm of the group. It was the first time since moving to Holiday Hollow that she felt like a participant instead of an observer—like she had a seat at the table, not just an assigned role.
"So," Anna said at last, spearing Grace with her sea-glass gaze. "Have you figured out how the Hollow works yet?"
Grace hesitated. "I mean, I get the general idea that magic is tied to the holidays.”
