I walked up to the door, curling my fingers to knock—and that’s when I felt it.
Maybe the wind…maybe breath.
I went still.
And it scared the hell out of me when the door suddenly swung open, revealing what I could only describe as Punk Rock Ms. Frizzle.
The woman—Delilah, I guessed—had long, curly red hair in space buns, the remnants of bright red lipstick on her lips, and a kimono with stars and moons on it draped over her shoulders. She smelled like lavender with just a touch of weed, a scent that set me instantly at ease, and she was smiling like we’d known each other for years.
“Noelle?” she said.
“That’s me.”
She grinned wider and stepped aside, gesturing toward the library. “Come on in.”
It was warm inside, cozy even. Soft golden lamplight pooled across old wood floors, and the smell of incense and aged paper hovered in the air. Music tumbled down the stairs, soft enough that I couldn’t recognize it at first, only to realize that she was listening to Jefferson Airplane, the lyrics to White Rabbit echoing around me.
Yeah. I was getting distinct Alice in Wonderland vibes.
This wasnota normal town.
“This way,” Delilah said, turning her back to me and sauntering up the stairs. I hadn’t seen the cat Beau mentioned, but that was always what freaked me out about them—that they could lurk in a house for hours without ever making an appearance. I followed Delilah past towering bookshelves, then past a crystal orb on a corner table with a sign that said “Yes, it works. No, you can’t touch it.” One shelf was labeled “Forbidden” and I wasn’t convinced it was a joke.
“I don’t…” I started, not sure how to ask what I wanted without sounding like an asshole. I gave up, asking anyway. “What the fuck is this place?”
Delilah led me toward a door behind the desk, then up a spiral staircase. “It’s a library.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She glanced over her shoulder with a sly smile. “Willow Grove,” she breathed, the affection she had for the town clear in every syllable. “The strangest town in the south.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m starting to get that.”
At the top of the stairs, she pushed open a narrow wooden door. The hinges gave a dramatic creak, and I expected to find an abandoned room on the other side—like she was a ghost, here to trick me into her haunted mansion.
But that wasn’t it at all.
Instead, the room beyond the door was warm and softly lit—part apartment, part enchanted attic. Sloped ceilings pressed in from all sides, and every available surface was occupied by something: books, candles, glass bottles full of dried herbs, a mannequin draped in what I hoped was a vintage cloak and not a ceremonial robe. There were two open doors to my left, one to my right; the attic was bigger than I’d expected.
And there was the cat: a slender little shadow with green eyes, purring in the window overlooking the town.
Delilah swept an arm across the space. “Welcome to your sanctuary for the night,” she said. “Guest room is on the right, bathroom is the second on the left. My room is beside it—I sleep with the door open so Morgana can come and go, but you’re welcome to shut and lock yours.”
I nodded, skeptical of just how comfy I was here. When my car had broken down in rural Georgia, I hadn’t expected…this. Not the witch with a spare room, not the handsome mechanic intent on showing me kindness despite how prickly I got.
This was…it was nice.
I felt safe.
“You like tea?” Delilah asked, walking into the kitchen. The place was tiny, but perfectly functional—with a stove, an oven, a sink and dishwasher. The cat hopped off of the windowsill to wind around Delilah’s legs, purring so loud I could hear it clean across the room. “I was just about to put the kettle on when you got here.”
“Yeah,” I said, putting my duffel down by the door. “I’d love some.”
“What do you want?” she asked, pulling a cabinet open. “I’ve got…let’s see. Looks like everything?”
Delilah ran her fingers along a shelf of colorful tins, muttering names.
“Chamomile. Orange spice. Black currant. Blood orange.Egyptian mint. Hibiscus blend. Rooibos with cinnamon. And something called 'Astral Projection' that I think is just lavender and mugwort, but it makes people dream real weird.”
