I glanced at the espresso machine on the counter. It was the best coffee machine money could buy, and yet, I wanted Millie’s fresh brew in the middle of the courtyard instead. I saw the toaster that was so advanced it could literally talk to you, and yet, I wanted Millie’s misshapen sourdough loaf. I saw the fake greenery in strategically placed pots, and instead I longed for the rich and wild foliage that surrounded Wisteria Cottage.
A Court of Ice and Emptiness.
I glanced down at my dress, my sandals. They’d let me keep them, for now at least. They were the only warmth and sunshine in this whole place.
Footsteps, then, “Allie?”
I almost didn’t turn around at the nickname. I’d gotten so used to being called Alessia over the last few days that Allie barely registered. It was amazing how it’d only taken a moment for me to shed the remnants of my old life. Like a snake shedding a skin that no longer fit—gone and forgotten, left to disintegrate into the ground.
I turned around and found my mother frozen in the doorway.
She blinked at me, and for a minute, something flashed through her eyes. Relief? Confusion? Disappointment?It happened so fast, I couldn’t say for sure. Then she gathered herself.
“What are you wearing?” my mother asked finally.
“That’s...” Her reply boggled my mind. “That’s the only thing you have to say to me?”
My mother shook her head as if to clear cobwebs from her own mind, and also to make sure I wasn’t a mirage. “Where have you been? Why are you dressed like that?”
“Like what?” I asked.
“And your hair.” My mother stepped toward me like I’d had a mental breakdown, and the clear-cut evidence of it was the state of my hair and my choice in attire. “My God, what happened to you?”
“Who are you talking to, Lucinda?” my father called from the other room.
He had continued talking to someone, I realized, which meant one other person was here. My stomach sank as a third voice echoed through the brownstone.
“Allie?” Simon appeared in the doorway behind my mother.
Then my father appeared behind him. All three of them, packed into one doorway, almost comically. Like a cartoon or a sitcom, except this didn’t feel at all funny. Maybe it was a little funny, but mostly in a sad way.
“What are you wearing?” Simon asked. “What happened to your hair?”
My father cleared his throat. “How’d you get in here?”
“We didn’t change the locks,” my mother snapped pointedly to her husband. “I’m sure that’s how she got in.”
“Allie.” Simon took a step into the room. “How dare you run off on me like that.”
I waited, trying to feel out how they remembered the situation at the altar. If their memory of it had been altered in any way.Perhaps by magic.
The idea of magic in this stuffy, sterile home seemed laughable to me. Was it any wonder I had trouble believing its existence when this was where I’d spent most of my life? A home completely barren of love and imagination?
I didn’t need twelve hours. I was ready to go back. I considered calling out for Silas, but I couldn’t risk my parents having me committed before the day was out. I wanted to be available for a quick exit when Silas returned.
Granted, I was pretty sure Silas would stop at nothing to find me, which was quite different than how my parents felt about me. Here they were, having tea and crumpets with my ex-fiancé with no sign of worry on the horizon.
“We were just discussing the press release we were going to put out,” Simon said. “You leaving me at the altar like that did a number on my image. Bolting down the aisle like you didn’t want to marry me.” Simon’sbrow furrowed. “Then we don’t hear from you for days, and you come back looking like a disaster? You are so irresponsible, Allie.”
“Uh huh,” I muttered, wondering how I’d ever been so brainwashed that the thought of marrying this man had been acceptable.
“I’ve got a friend,” my father said. “The best psychiatrist in the business. Name’s Dr. Simmons. Very expensive, top of his game. Works with a lot of celebrities. They have in-patient clinics, and word will never get out.”
Simon was nodding along with my father. My father the problem solver, like this was a solid proposition, a real way tofixthis situation.
Holy guacamole, I realized, I didn’t even have twelve hours before these guys wanted to lock me away. Silas better hurry up getting that prescription for Eloise and get his tail feathers back here before my parents shoved medication at me.
I hadn’t even started talking about magic yet. I hadn’t really started talking about anything, to be fair.
