“It’s on a farm.”
“Oh.” Honey’s voice rose an octave.
Other than having readCharlotte’s Webin grammar school, Honey didn’t have any experience with that sort of thing. She straightened her shoulders anyway. She couldhandle this. It was an opportunity, an assignment chosen by Mr. Aldridge himself.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she said brightly, and was rewarded by a small dip of his chin and, miracle of miracles, the faintest lift at the corner of his mouth.
“Very well,” he said.
Honey swelled with pride. She had worked under Mr. Aldridge for the entirety of her career at the bureau, and she liked to think of him as a mentor of sorts.
It was Mr. Aldridge who had taught her the beauty of precision and the art of efficiency. He had never been a man for grand gestures—no pep talks or friendly shoulder-claps—but his mentorship lived in the smallest things: a carefully placed report returned with a quiet "Good work," a nod of approval after a particularly complex audit, a comment in the margin of an evaluation.
Honey treasured those moments.
She had built herself around them.
“As for the matter of your review,” he said, steepling his fingers atop the desk, “should this assignment have a favorable outcome, you may have the position of your choice.”
For a heartbeat, Honey could only stare at him. The position of her choice. The culmination of ten years of meticulous effort.
A giddy thrill sparked low in her chest, quickly followed by a flutter of nerves. She hadn't anticipated a test. She had imagined a smooth transition into the next chapter of her career, not a last-minute venture to farmland.
She smoothed her skirt. No matter.
It’d been so long since she had created a new system from scratch, she realized. That was probably the reason for her bout of melancholy earlier. She missed the rush of bringing order to a mess. It was a rare feeling, like snappingthe final piece of a puzzle into place after hours of work: that humming, full-body click of rightness.
And maybe this was her chance to feel it again. To prove herself before stepping into the future she had so carefully planned.
“It would be my pleasure, sir.”
Chapter 2
Honey
Honey Baxter
Hello, Mr. Hale. This is Auditor Baxter. I would like to remind you of my scheduled audit on your wishing well for this upcoming Monday, August 16th.
Ethan Hale
No
According to our records, you should’ve received an official letter by post two weeks ago.
I did.
Still no.
Remove me from your list.
I’m afraid that’s not how it works.
Then you’re wasting your time.
Auditing magic is never a waste of time, Mr. Hale. I’ll see you Monday at 9 a.m.
You’ll be trespassing.
