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When we pass by Restaurant, I blow out a breath of amusement. How could I have forgotten about the quirky business names? It’s like something straight out of a movie set.

I feel a smile pull at my lips as I read each passing sign: Market, Inn, Auto Shop. Every business in town is named exactly for what it is.

“I know it’s small, but look at all the grass. Just think about all the walks we’ll get to take, all the exploring you’ll get to do,” I add, and I’m not sure if it’s more Matilda I’m trying to convince or myself. As happy as I am to finally get away from all the spotlight back in LA, I’m nervous about how this summer is going to go.

I pull into the mostly vacant parking lot behind Inn. “All right, let’s do this.”

Before getting out, I toss a baseball cap on my head and grab Matilda’s leash. It’s not much of a disguise, but it’ll have to do.

Matilda’s toes click against the cobblestone beside me as we make our way inside the large, ornate building.

I don’t see anyone behind the counter, so I wait a minute or two before tapping the gold bell.

A short, plump, gray-haired woman with reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose pops her head from around the corner, a paperback book in her hand as she meanders over to help me.

“So sorry about that, I didn’t hear you come in,” she apologizes as she flips through what seems to be a paper logbook. “I’m Colleen, owner, manager, head chef, you name it.” She chuckles without looking up, and I’m relieved not to instantly be recognized. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes.” I clear my throat. “It should be under K. Blakely. I’ve booked a downstairs garden-facing room through the end of the summer.”

“Of course,” Colleen says with a smile. “We’re so happy to have you. I just need you to fill out some paperwork.” She licks her thumb and begins counting the stack of forms from a pile on the counter before stapling them. She pauses when she looks back at me. “You look so familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Have you stayed with us before?”

“Nope. Just a familiar face, I guess.” Trying my best not to give myself away, I take the thick stack of paper, my palms already slick with sweat.

My acting must be convincing because her curiosity jumps to the next question.

“So, what brings you to Ashford Falls?”

“I had some unexpected time off…so, I’m…just visiting my sister for the summer,” I say, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible while I tackle the ancient stack of paperwork before me.

I flip through the pages—all handwritten cursive—offering a brief overview of the town’s history and its connection to the infamous Phantom. As a native—if only by birth—I’m already well-versed in the legends. So, even though I moved away by the time I was seven, I still carry the deep understanding and appreciation of the town lore. A healthy fear, if you will.

The paperwork is basically stating that Inn can’t be held liable should another Phantom encounter occur on or around the property.

Is that something that happens often? The fact that someone took the time to handwrite a warning about it feels a little concerning.

“That’s nice. It’s good to see a young lady like yourself prioritizing her family,” Colleen continues. “With as busy as everyone is these days, it’s easy to get swept up in working so much that you let life pass you by.”

I’m half tempted to ask what happened to inspire such thorough paperwork, but I think better of it. If I want to sleep at night, it’s probably best I don’t know.

“It sure does,” I say, scanning the next document as quickly and carefully as I can, making sure I’m not signing away anything that compromises my privacy.

“I notice you’re wearing a wedding ring. Will your husband be joining us later⁠—”

“No.” I cut her off before she can finish, sweetening my tone as I add, “That won’t be necessary.”

When I look back up, her smile has faded, a faint crease forming between her brows.

Dammit, I’ve been in this town for five fucking minutes, and I’ve already managed to turn someone against me.

At my feet, Matilda’s toenails tap impatiently against the marble floor as she looks up at me with pleading eyes.

Damnit. I forgot to walk her. Dog ownership is harder than it seems.

I watch as Colleen’s eyes slowly drift down, widening when she notices Matilda. Any semblance of friendliness that she had left for me—not that there was much—falls from her face.

Her face is a grimace as she looks from Matilda back to me. “You didn’t mention you had a dog.”

A tidal wave of panic spurs me into damage control. “Right, I didn’t mention it when I made the reservation because at the time I didn’t have her…” Her face is unmoving, so I continue, trying to say something to win her over. “I recently rescued her…but no worries, she’s perfectly house-trained and never barks. You won’t even notice she’s here.”