“No, you don’tunderstand.”
“I understand perfectly.” Honey didn’t break her stride though her suitcase bumped wildly over the uneven ground.
Emma followed her. “What if I told you it’s a matter of life and death?”
“No matter how wild and unregulated it gets, magic will not directly kill anyone.”
Emma let out a frustrated laugh. “It sure feels like it will. I’ve been holding this place together with nothing but wishes.”
Honey stopped in her tracks.
Emma’s voice dropped. “The orchard, my sisters, my dad. I’ve been pouring everything into that well. And now…I think it’s starting to run dry.”
Chapter 6
Honey
Honey spun to face Emma. “Elaborate,” she ordered.
“I’ll explain everything.” Emma’s eyes flicked past Honey’s shoulder. “But tell Poppy to leave first.”
“Who’s Poppy?”
“Mr. Bloom,” Emma said, exasperated as if Honey were the one waylaying her.
Honey turned just as a white car bumped up the dirt road toward the farmhouse, sunlight flashing off the windshield.
Great.Now she could get some space, get settled in the hotel, and clear her head. Then, she could come back better prepared.
But she couldn’t make herself move.
It sounded like Emma said that she had been making wishes and somehow they’d been getting approved. But that wasn’t what made Honey hesitate. When Emma said she’d been holding it all together, all the pieces fit into place. The chaotic home. The chewed nails. The incessant fidgeting.
Honey recognized it. She’dlived it.
The frantic, desperate need to keep your family together. The constant mental math of who needed what, and what would happen if she dropped even one ball.
If Emma really was holding this farm up alone and crumbling under the pressure and Honey was the only one who knew and especially suited to fix it…
She should leave. She was supposed to be impartial. Objective. That was the whole point of an auditor—observe, report, don’t get involved. Now look at her, heart twisting over a teenager. No wonder most of the higher-ups at the bureau chose to stay behind their desks.
The car rolled to a stop beside her. The window slid down, and the driver leaned toward her with a kind smile. “Excuse me, ma’am,” the driver said. “Would you like that ride?”
“Yes, please. But…” She looked back at Emma. At the tired lines under her eyes, at the way her arms were crossed too tightly over her chest. A kid should never have to carry that much.
Honey remembered late nights sorting through half-baked spellwork before it spiraled into something dangerous. Diluting potions with vinegar and food coloring before the neighbors noticed the glimmer. Tweaking runes just enough to short-circuit their spark. All to keep the family’s work just this side of legal.
Technically, her parents weren’t allowed to channel magic. Only the officially sanctioned Anchor House could tap the ley line in each county. Everyone else was supposed to keep their spells ornamental or risk a bureau audit. Honey had spent most of her teenage years making sure their family’s work looked like bath bombs and essential oils instead of what it really was.
Her parents meant well, of course, just like this Mr. Ethan Hale might be an okay man. But they were chaotic, impulsive, and had no sense of structure. So, Honey became the structure. The schedule. The brakes. The cleanup crew.
It had made her sharp. Efficient. A natural fit for the bureau.
But it had also made her tired.
And looking at Emma now, it struck something old and aching in her.
“Mr. Bloom, I’m so sorry to have wasted your time,” Honey said. “But I actually need to cancel.”
