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17

CARYS

OCTOBER 24 ~ 7 DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN

There is a moment after something impossible happens when your brain desperately tries to return to normal. It searches for familiar explanations. A misunderstanding. A trick of light.

A coincidence. Anything that allows the world to make sense again.

Unfortunately, my life has never been particularly interested in making sense.

15 years ago, I lost pieces of my own memory. 24 hours ago, a boy named Morrow Valentine knocked on my door claiming to be the son I lost 15 years ago. My mind still fights the possibility.

My instincts don't.

And somewhere between the impossible evidence, the impossible memories, and the way my heart recognized him before I understood why…

I stopped asking whether he was my son. I started asking who took him from me.

A creature that should not exist has been stalking my home.

And Rhett Cambridge—the man who broke my heart and somehow still manages to make my pulse jump every time he walks into a room—is sleeping three walls away while pretending he isn't exhausted.

Normal is no longer an option. So I investigate.

Everly's shop is the only place in Sleepy Hollow where strange things somehow feel less strange. Maybe it's the smell. Cinnamon. Tea. Dried herbs. Wood smoke.

Maybe it's the way she never looks surprised by anything. Everly has always had a talent for making the impossible sound like an inconvenient scheduling issue.

The bell above the door rings as I step inside. She looks up from arranging candles shaped like tiny black cats.

"You look terrible."

I blink.

"Good morning to you too."

"You know I mean that lovingly."

"I don't think that's how insults work."

She smiles.

"How's the boy?"

The question immediately softens me.

"Sayer."

Everly nods.

"Yes."

"He's… trying."

Her expression changes. Not pity. Something closer to understanding.

"And you?"