Page 27 of Love Spells: And Other Non-Refundable Magic

My mother would probably tell me that is exactly the problem.

I finish the bracelet, knot the elastic, and reach for the small intention card that goes into the order. ABUNDANCE, I write across the top before adding the rest, my hands settling back into the familiar routine of packaging something that will eventually make its way to a stranger.

This part I understand.

The people who choose to order from my online shop always want something. Love, money, confidence, closure, some assurance that the thing they’re reaching toward is actually meant for them. Lately, I’ve been thinking more about how often they ask me to provide the answer before they’ve figured out the question.

My newest customer is a perfect example. She was so certain she wanted love that she spent what I would consider a small fortune trying to summon it, and now she’s equally certain she wants me to reverse the whole thing because the first possibility that appeared wasn’t the right one.

Somewhere between my mother’s abandoned tickets and that ridiculous reversal request, I find myself thinking about how much time people spend trying to control what happens next.

By the time I finish packing the last order, the afternoon light has shifted across the table and the black envelope is still sitting beside my laptop.

I tuck the envelope into the drawer beneath my shipping supplies and close it before my brain decides to betray me yet again.

There. Problem solved.

CHAPTER 9

MERRYWEATHER

The first thing I notice is that I am, without a shadow of a doubt, going to fall down these stairs. Which, considering I am standing at the entrance of the Japanese Garden on a damp October night with a full moon above the trees and a witch’s instructions to notice things I’ve been missing, feels a little too on the nose.

Not in, like, a classic Merryweather Hawthorne way, which is expected at this point.

No.

There are actual stone steps in front of me, softly illuminated by little lights tucked along the path, and I have somehow managed to catch the toe of my boot on the first one, despite the fact that I’m standing completely still.

I windmill one arm, grab the metal railing, and recover before the woman behind me has to witness my death at moonlight.

“Sorry,” I say, moving aside.

She gives me the polite smile of someone who is definitely going to tell her friends about me later.

Excellent.

The reversal is off to an amazing start. Maybe dying would end the curse.

I step off the path and pull out my phone.

THINGS I NOTICED

I created the note seven minutes ago, because apparently when a witch tells me to wander around and notice things, my response is to introduce administrative oversight. Lest I forget what I’m noticing.

So far I have:

1. Red leaves (maybe, it’s dark)

2. Koi fish (also maybe, it’s dark)

3. Glass thing that looks like a sea creature (look into doing a glass blowing class? Ask Rose about it

4. The moon

I stare at the list. This cannot possibly be what The Third Fairy meant.

You obviously noticed the moon, Merryweather. She specifically sent you out during it, you dum-dum.