Hewhay's isn't going to appear on command. Fine. That was always a long shot.
But there's still Abigail's journal. There's still the mystery of what actually happened to her. And there's still that passagebehind the chapel—the one she disappeared into, the one I only explored partway before I found the journal and retreated.
Maybe I missed something.
Tomorrow. I'll go back tomorrow, when my head isn't throbbing and my pride isn't quite so bruised.
For now, I need to figure out how to hide this bump from my husband.
DINNER IS A QUIET AFFAIR. Devyn is distracted, but I don’t ask questions. If there’s something he wants me to know, he’ll tell me. So for now, I let it be. I’d rather not have his attention on me anyway.
Except...
When we’re back in our bedroom, I make the mistake of washing my face.
I'm standing at the sink, water dripping from my chin, when I push my hair back without thinking. Just a quick swipe to get it out of my eyes.
"What is that?"
I freeze.
Devyn is behind me, reflected in the mirror. He's already changed out of his jacket, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and his eyes are locked on my forehead.
On the bruise I've been hiding all day.
"What is what?" I try.
He's across the bathroom in two strides. His hand catches my chin, tilting my face toward the light, and his expression goes from questioning to thunderous in the space of a heartbeat.
"This." His thumb hovers near the bruise, not quite touching. "What is this?"
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing. It's a bruise. On your face." His voice is too controlled. Too quiet. "Who did this?"
"No one—"
"Bailey."
"I did it to myself, okay?" The words come out too fast, too defensive. "I ran into a wall."
He stares at me.
I stare back.
"You ran into a wall," he repeats flatly.
"Yes."
"The same wall you ran into yesterday? Or a different wall? How many walls are you running into?"
"It was—" I stop. Take a breath. "It was the same wall. The same incident. I just...didn't want you to know."
"Why?"
Because it's embarrassing. Because I was trying to summon a magical bookshop by running at solid stone like a characterin a children's book. Because I'm an idiot who can't even investigate properly without injuring myself.
"Because it's stupid," I say finally. "The reason is stupid."
