He stood alone in his kitchen, holding a half-eaten brownie and staring at the space where Flora had been. Through the window, he could see Sara’s cottage. She was in her kitchen, visible through the curtainless window, moving as if she were dancing to an unheard tune.
Spring is coming early this year.
His ears flicked irritably and his jaw tightened. But despite every wall he’d built, every rule he’d made, and every promise he’d sworn to himself—he reached for another brownie.
CHAPTER 3
Monday morning arrived with a dusting of new snow and a wave of nervous energy that had Sara up before dawn. She changed outfits three times before settling on a calf-length burgundy skirt, a cream sweater with smiling cat faces, and comfortable ankle boots. She pinned her hair back with a pair of sparkly combs, painted on some raspberry lip gloss, and took a deep breath.
Fairhaven Falls Elementary was a charming two-story brick building that radiated a welcoming warmth, even in the grey morning light. Inside, the hallways were bright and cheerful, decorated with colorful artwork and pictures of students and their families, most of whom were clearly not human. Her classroom was on the ground floor, a large, bright space with a wall of windows looking out onto a snow-covered playground bordered by ancient oak trees. The walls were covered in cheerful artwork and educational posters, and someone had painted a mural of woodland creatures along one wall.
It felt like a place where magic was normal. Where children could be themselves without fear.
After a quick word with the school secretary, she spent the next hour arranging desks, decorating the bulletin boards, and setting up a reading corner. She was just arranging a pile of picture books on the reading rug when a tiny goblin girl with bright green skin and two braided top-knots bounced into the room.
“Hi! You’re the new teacher!” The girl’s voice was surprisingly loud for her size. “I’m Petunia. This is my second year of kindergarten ‘cause my mama says I’m a late bloomer.” She puffed out her chest proudly. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Miss Cartwright,” she said, smiling and kneeling down to be at eye level. “It’s very nice to meet you, Petunia.”
“Are you a human?” Petunia asked, her big yellow eyes wide with curiosity. “My mama says humans are squishy but mostly harmless.”
She laughed. “That’s right. I’m a human. And I promise I’m mostly harmless.”
Before Petunia could respond, a werewolf cub in blue overalls poked his head into the room. “Petunia, your Mama said you had to wait in the office.”
“But she was here!” Petunia pointed a green finger at Sara. “And I wanted to see if she brought snacks.”
The cub looked Sara up and down, his nose twitching. “She doesn’t smell like snacks.”
“She does too! She smells like sugar!” Petunia insisted.
Why does everyone think I smell like sugar?
“Petunia. Peter.” A goblin female with kind eyes and a frazzled expression hurried into the room. “How many times have I told you not to bother the teacher? Class hasn’t started yet.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, smiling at the other woman. “I’m sure they’re curious about me. They’re welcome to stay with me until class starts.”
“Are you sure? I have an early shift at the hospital today but they can wait in the office.”
“I’m sure. I know you don’t want to be late to work.”
The woman hesitated a moment longer, then flashed her a quick smile. “I appreciate it. I’m Marjorie Gold.”
“I’m Sara Cartwright. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You too. Behave yourself, children,” Marjorie ordered, then hurried away. Sara turned back to find two sets of eyes fastened on her face.
“Our last teacher was a selkie,” Peter announced. “She could turn into a seal. Can you turn into anything?”
“I’m afraid not.” She smiled as his face fell. “I hope you won’t hold it against me. Now what can you tell me about the class pet?”
By the time the other twelve students in her class had arrived, she had learned that the class pet was a hedgehog named Sir Pricklepants, and that her predecessor, the seal-shifting selkie, had left rather abruptly after falling in love with a fisherman from the coast.
“She sends postcards sometimes,” a tiny elf girl named Maisie informed her. “They smell like fish.”
“That’s… interesting,” she managed.
“But they don’t taste like fish. Billy tried eating one.”
