CHAPTER 1
MERRYWEATHER
“Hi,” I whisper as I type, in case the universe is listening in on me right this second. I don’t want to call much more attention to myself than I already have, and I don’t want the universe to know that I know that it’s conspiring against me. “I think I’m cursed, romantically.”
I stare at the sentence for a second, then delete romantically and replace it with generally.
Then I change it back.
Because honestly? The romance part is currently the most alarming.
The cursor blinks patiently inside the custom order message box while I sit cross-legged on my couch with one shoe still on, my coat half falling off my shoulder, and a wine glass balanced dangerously on the armrest beside me.
This is not where I thought my Thursday night would end.
Although, to be fair, most of my Thursday evenings tend to end in strange emotional terrain.
“Just order a spell on Whisp,” Veronica had said over after work happy hour margaritas. Her cousin’s girlfriend had, allegedly, ordered one from a reputable witch to nail down a job interview and it worked better than she expected. “It worked out for Andrea. And, if all else fails, it’ll be a funny story to tell later.”
“Honestly, at this point, you have nothing to lose,” Dani added.
Which was rude.
Absolutely true, but totally rude.
Now they’re both probably asleep like the emotionally stable people they are, while I’m sitting in my apartment buying spells online after getting pseudo-dumped by a woman who once described me as “intense but, like, impressive intense.”
What does that even mean? Impressive like an Olympic athlete? Or impressive like a small kitchen fire?
Frankly, the kitchen fire feels more accurate. Last week, I managed to get my scarf caught in the office shredder. Not the actual shredding part. Just one of the wheels, which is infinitely worse, in my opinion. And all of it happened while my hellish boss looked at the scene with a disapproving expression on her perfectly botoxed face from her corner office.
The week before that, I dropped an entire iced coffee directly into my tote bag while making eye contact with a very attractive woman on my way back from the bus stop, then had to go to the IT guys at work and explain to them what had happened and why I needed a new laptop.
At a certain point, I have to start considering supernatural interference.
I take another sip of wine.
Whisp’s homepage glows softly in the dark living room. The Third Fairy—a highly rated shop within the online marketplace where independent makers sell everything from hand-thrown pottery to vintage finds and, apparently, spells—sits right at the top of the search results page, almost seventeen thousand sales and a suspicious amount of reviews claiming things like:
“This changed my life.” In all caps.
One client swears she met her husband three weeks after buying the attraction spell. Another one says her ex came crawling back during the full moon.
Personally, if any of my exes crawled anywhere near me during a full moon, I’d call animal control.
I take another sip of wine and squint at the custom request box. The instructions are clear: please describe what you need help with, and The Third Fairy will try to lead with intention as we manifest through the energy of nature and the powerful force of the Earth’s crystals.
I scroll farther down, and I catch the add-ons: attraction spell kit (bestseller), road opener candle (what even is that?), energetic cord cutting bath ritual (huh?), protection charm against emotionally unavailable people.
I pause.
It all feels a little targeted.
“Where is the option for removing weird energy following me around since 2021?” I say to the screen. “I’d definitely pay extra for that one.”
Aurora lifts her head from the armchair and watches me with visible concern.
“I’m being vulnerable right now,” I tell the cat. “Leave me alone.”
