Pulling out the folded sheet, I realized it was a painting. A man and a woman stood in front of the library doors with the pink awning above them. The woman, her smile beaming brighter than any I’d seen before—one of those smiles people said could light up an entire room. She wore a high-waisted brown skirt and a white tunic tucked into it, bright gold earrings hung from her ears, and her hair trickled all the way down her back. The man standing next to her—Mr. Wilson himself.
I dusted off the portrait, taking in everything it showed.
“Ah,” a voice behind me said with a crack. “She’s a beauty, always was.”
My spine locked into place. I half-ass rolled and spun tosee the library owner returned. Letting my heart return to its normal beating rhythm, I panted and readjusted from the near-defense position I’d scooted into with my back to the desk before catching on to what he’d said. “Who is she? The woman in the painting?”
Raising it for him to take, Mr. Wilson illuminated with a pure sense of reminiscing. “She was my wife.”
His wife?I wasn’t aware he’d been married at all. “I didn’t know…”
Passing the painting back to me, sitting on the floor, his eyes hardly passed mine. “Reece, how old are you now?”
“Twenty-four.”
Closing his eyes, his fingers tapped the surface. “You would have been somewhere around three years old when she left this world behind.”
Oh.“Mr. Wilson, I apologize. I shouldn’t have pulled it out—”
“Do you see her smile there?”
His words brought me to a stop; he didn’t want to end the conversation about her. Actually, if I guessed by the glimmer in his eyes, I’d say he wanted to gush about her once again. Looking down at it, I nodded and hummed to say yes.
“I wanted to bottle that smile up and keep it with me at all times, so I’d have it when I needed it.” My lips tightened into a thin grin. “But because that wasn’t possible, I had this painting done. It might have been my idea, but she decided everything about it.” He laughed, offering me a hand.
Taking it carefully, with a nod of his head, he motionedfor me to follow him into the back where the table and chairs were. Mr. Wilson sat next to me. “She picked the location. The day, the time. My goodness, she even picked my outfit.”
His tone said enough, rich with happiness and joy—but not regret. Or sorrow. Or pain. Mr. Wilson had nothing but gratitude for those times. “Mira was full of grace and stubbornness. Patience and hell-bent determination.
“I never planned on marrying young, but once I met her, there was no going back for me.” He sighed. “We actually worked together down at what used to be the library, where the commissioners work now. She hated me, but when they closed us down for the commissioners, we had an idea.” Wilson laughed, tearing my own lips into a grin as he gestured around us. “She made me fight tooth and nail to marry her and I’d do it all again if I got the chance.
“You know, I lost Mira earlier than anyone wants to lose the one they love. And after having a love so grand, I only wanted to share it. I kept the library up, and somehow her magic keeps it alive.” He glanced up at his store with a glimmering awe. “You don’t waste a great love when you got one”—he paused—“and I had the greatest.”
Am I wasting a great love?
“You don’t remember your parents that way, do you?”
My parents? Chester McCarthen, head over heels in love? “Not really.” I shook my head. “I remember how things were back then, at home and with the sanctuary. And… I remember how it all changed when we lost her,” I confessed, for a reason I wasn’t too sure of.
Wilson hummed. “Losing love does something to a person, especially when it made you feel so alive.”
I knew losing my mother made my father the absentee he was, but I never cared enough to truly imagine. And really thinking about it, one might say he shut off his heart the same way I had…
“Knock knock.” I blinked away the thought. Behind us, Maeve, the town witch who lived nearby, walked in. I hadn’t seen her in years and had accidentally forgotten she even stayed in Honey Brooke. “I heard you needed some help.” She wiggled her magical fingers. Her blue hair almost seemed black. Her porcelain skin paired with inky, black eyes suited well with her black dress. She looked cool, for what it mattered.
Realizing it was time for me to meet Laken again, I faced… an old friend. “Thank you for sharing your story with me, Mr. Wilson. I hope my remodel holds up.”
He smiled with thin lips, wrinkles gathered around his eyes and mouth. “Thank you for listening.” He patted my hands.
Despite how I could sit and listen to him for hours, I waved and bid him farewell. Laken had said if I didn’t see him before sunset to meet him at home. But as I came closer to my house, Laken wasn’t either of the men waiting there.
Two men dressed in black leathers and boots stoodinsidethe yard, poking their heads around the gate. If they trailed any farther, Maeve’s ward would shock their bodies. I should’ve let it, but it was too late. I couldn’t see their faces,but with all of Laken’s talk about people wanting my creatures, my stomach tore up.
“Hello?” I called, still outside the fence. “Can I help you?”
They whipped around, nearly hitting heads before looking at me, then at each other as if trying to decide what to do. One of them took the lead and crossed the yard toward me. He had dark shaved hair and oak-brown eyes aged with tired circles under them. “Yes, we were looking for the owner.”
“In the back?” I crossed my arms and tilted my head, waiting for his response.
