“Cowards,” Beau said.
“Or smart,” I huffed. “Easier to walk away if it doesn’t go their way. You know theyloveto walk away.”
Rhett folded the letter and moved to hand it back—then paused. “They ever file anything official after they left?”
“Nope,” I said. “They just up and vanished—left Amelia behind and never looked back. And don’t get me wrong…it was probably good for her. But to not even go to your sister’s funeral…?”
“Yeah, they’re assholes,” Beau said. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
I shrugged. “Figure the town’ll do what it did last time—run the damn cultists out.”
“I don’t know…maybe enough folks forgot that they’ll be happy to have a church in town again,” Rhett said. “Me and Willow have gotten a few dirty looks in town lately, people worried we brought some kinda sinful shit to town with our little wexorcism, think we need Jesus.”
Beau snorted. “They ain’t wrong. I’m still scarred by catchin’ you two on the breakfast table more than a few times.”
My eyes widened. “Rhett. Peopleeat there.”
Rhett gave me a lazy smile. “Yeah…Ieat there.”
Beau made a dramatic gagging noise and walked off, shaking his head. Rhett just leaned on a post, wiping his brow. “Point is,” he said, “not everyone remembers what the Fellowship really was. Not like we do.”
“They remember enough to whisper about Amelia,” I muttered.
Rhett went quiet.
That quiet was too uncomfortable for me, though…and I crouched to grab a spare tool belt, sighing. “Still get folks askin’ if she was intentionally careless because her family left her…as if it wasn’t a goddamn accident,” I muttered. “Amelia was happy. Excited about…about us. And her family abandoned her.”
Rhett didn’t say a word as I stood.
“They want to reclaim that building? They can do it over my dead body.”
There was a long pause, then Rhett reached out to grasp my shoulder.
“I think that’s what they’re hoping for,” Rhett said.
CHAPTER 3
June
It’seasy to forget what home feels like when you’ve been on your own for so long…but this?
This felt like home.
I stood at the stove and turned bacon with a fork while Willow moved behind me, setting out plates and stirring grits. Baby Hazel was still cackling like a tiny little witch, and Delilah was infinitely entertained by her honorary niece, holding up a wooden spoon like it was a wand. Milo sat patiently beside them, wagging his tail and panting, seemingly willing to give patience and gentlenessonlyto the little girl.
“Say abracadabra,” Delilah said, mirth in every freckle on her face. “Turn Uncle Beau into a possum.”
Hazel squealed and kicked her tiny feet, clearly in favor of the spell.
I smiled, catching Willow’s eye. Her gaze flitted to her daughter, then back to me.
“I hope it’s not strange to say it feels right having you here,” Willow said. “After everything you did for us…wondered how you’ve been and if you’d come back.”
I took a deep breath. “Mostly good. Some…things have happened, but such is life, right?”
She didn’t seem judgmental, just nodded. “Understood,” she said.
She didn’t have to offer to listen; it was implied.
