Sharp. Too precise. Like someone practiced it in the mirror to make sure it sounded polite but firm, practiced but not desperate. The kind of knock that doesn’t ask permission so much as to remind you that whoever’s on the other side thinks they already have a right to be there.
Mari’s in the living room humming to herself, head bent over a drawing that looks like a castle built entirely out of crescent moons and mushrooms. She’s got ink on her chin and one sock on inside out, and she looks so completely, fully safe that it hurts.
I open the door with fingers that already feel cold.
And there he is.
Michael stands on my porch like he’s never been anywhere else, like the air here is just another conference room, and the trees should straighten up and thank him for the visit. He’s wearing one of his expensive charcoal-gray suits, tailored like always, even though the fog curls damp around the cuffs and clings to his collar.
The Hollow doesn’t like him. I can feel it in the way the wind shifts, sudden and sharp, stirring the leaves like a warning.
But of course, he just smiles. That same smile he always used at dinner parties and in front of therapists. Warm. Reasonable. So perfectly practiced it used to make me doubt my own memory.
“Krista,” he says, like the word still belongs to him. “Wow. Look at you.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. Not for a second. My throat closes so fast it feels like it snaps shut.
He glances past me like he’s admiring the decor, nodding slightly as if impressed. “This is… cozy. Quaint. Not exactly what I expected when you said you were moving out of state, but I guess rustic’s trending.”
I find my voice. It’s thinner than I want, but steady. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
He blinks once. Tilts his head like I’ve just said something adorably confused. “I’m her father, Krista. I have a right to know where she’s living. Especially now that her official residency’s been moved to… what was it? Gristlewood Hollow? Sounds like something from a low-budget haunted house ride.”
My fingers tighten around the edge of the doorframe. “You don’t belong here. I don’t even know how you found us.”
He steps forward, only half a foot, but it’s enough to make my stomach twist. “Actually, I do. I spoke with your council. Friendly bunch. That elven woman with the violet robes? Very stately. A little stiff, but she warmed up once I explained my concerns.”
My chest starts to close in. “What concerns?”
Michael’s smile never wavers. “That my daughter is living in an unincorporated, magically-governed district with no formal school, no medical oversight, and a mother who—let’s be honest—has a history of instability and recently started practicing unsanctioned magic in an isolated environment.” He lifts onehand, palm-out, like he’s being generous. “Not trying to insult you, Krista. Just stating the facts.”
“You’re twisting everything.”
He clicks his tongue softly, like I’m being unreasonable. “I’m looking out for Mari’s best interests.”
“No. You’re looking to control her, just like you tried to control me.”
His expression darkens for half a second, the mask slipping just enough to let the steel underneath show. Then it’s back. The charm. The gentle disappointment. “You’re projecting, sweetheart. I think this place has gotten to your head.”
A sound behind me: small, too quiet to register for most people. But I hear it. Mari’s pencil stops scratching. There’s a shift in the floorboard.
I step fully into the doorway and shut the door behind me. Not hard. Not loud. But final.
“You don’t get to see her,” I say. “Not uninvited.”
Michael sighs. Looks around like he’s taking in the scenery. “This whole town feels like it’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Did you know the council’s not even fully human? Not that I’m prejudiced. But when it comes to legal custody, jurisdiction’s a bit… murky.”
I can feel the tremble in my hands now, even though I press them against my thighs.
“You’re not taking her.”
His eyes settle on mine. I finally realize he’s not just manipulative. He’s vindictive.
“Oh, Krista,” he says, voice soft and sharp all at once. “You think the Hollow can protect you. But magic towns are still bound by laws. And I know how to use those.”
He turns and walks back down the path like this is over. Like he’s already won. The leaves don’t crunch under his feet. They recoil.
I stand there until he’s out of sight.
