“Of course I know it.”
“Alice is shocked because she didn’t believe in unicorns, and theunicorn is shocked because he never believed in little girls. So the unicorn says to Alice…‘Well, now that we have seen each other,…if you’ll believe in me, I’ll believe in you.’ So, Jessa Charming…if you believe in me, I’ll believe in you. Deal?”
“Rainy March believes in me?”
“I believe in you.”
Jessa lowered her chin to her chest and took a breath. “A week before she died, Maxine called me, asked me again to consider carrying on the series after she was gone. You know what I told her?”
“Whatever you said, it probably killed her.”
Jessa glared at her. “I said, only if Rainy March herself shows up and tells me to do it. And you know what she said?”
“She said don’t be surprised if I show up.”
“How did you know?”
“I guess you could say we shared a brain. I don’t know everything about her, but I know this much—she believed in you too. Otherwise she wouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s a big ask,” Jessa said.
“Come on, don’t make me employ Plan C.”
“Plan C? Oh, right. Crying.” Jessa took a deep breath. “What if I finish the book, and it’s bad?”
“Let me ask you this. Would you rather have bad pizza or no pizza at all? Or bad coffee or no coffee at all? Or…” Rainy waved her hand toward the cemetery, all the graves, not empty but occupied. “Would you rather have a bad day or no more days at all?”
Jessa pointed at Rainy. “You fight dirty.”
“I fight to win. Come on, Charming, it’s not Shakespeare. Slap a happy ending on it and call it a day.”
“Slap a happy ending on it? Do you think that’s how it works?”
“You’re the writer, not me.” Rainy put her hands on Jessa’s shoulders. “Have you seen Duke in person?”
“No, of course not.”
“I have. And whatever you’re imagining…it’s even better.”
Rainy hoped this line of argument would work. She was running out of ways to beg.
Jessa nodded. “It was fun to finally read how you and Duke met,”she said. “Maxine had been teasing readers with that story for sixteen books. Shame if no one else gets to read it.”
Rainy started. “Wait a minute. My case files are my stories?”
“Is that a bad thing?” Jessa asked.
“A little, yeah. Those case files are my journals! Do you want people readingyourjournals? I wrote them for posterity, to record the glorious history of the Book Witches, not for public consumption.”
“First of all,no,” Jessa said as if she were talking to a child. “You didn’t write them. You only think you wrote them. Maxine Blake wrote them. And second of all…there is no second point. You are a fictional character. Your journals are published works of fiction. Get used to it.”
“It’s a little embarrassing. There’s personal stuff in there.”
“I would never embarrass you.”
Rainy narrowed her eyes at Jessa. “You mean…when you’re writing my book?”
Jessa threw her hands in the air. “Fine! I’ll do it!”
