Page 8 of Infernal Secrets

Her daughter, who looked no older than six-years-old, stood at her side, holding the fairy statue I’d advised against purchasing earlier that week. The woman had wanted it as a toy, not a collectible.

“What do you mean I can’t get a refund?” The woman snatched the broken pieces from her daughter. “This cheap thing fell apart less than a week after buying it.”

I glanced to the back corner of the store and clenched my teeth when the young guy browsing candles looked my way, his eye sockets hollow. I averted my gaze, returning my attention to Trudy and the woman. Now wasn’t the time to lose myself in hallucinations.

“Ma’am, your daughter admitted she dropped it.”

“Yes, and if the product hadn’t been shoddy, it’d have been fine. Her other dolls don’t break when she drops them.”

“I can’t go against store policy.”

“I’m sure you can make an exception. Do you really want to make a big deal out of such a cheap toy? Your boss won’t be happy. Besides, I doubt you’d be able to find a job anywhere else with that blue mess you call hair.”

“Ma’am?” Trudy tugged at her hair, something she did when anxious.

“That bitch—” Maya stepped forward.

I grabbed her arm and stepped around her, needing to deescalate before Trudy shut down and Maya made things worse. “Is there a problem here?”

The hollow-eyed man passed behind the woman to browse the herbs and spices, whistling a soft and eerie tune—the kind that raised the hairs on my arms.

The woman’s nose wrinkled in disdain. “You!”

I lifted the divider between the glass cases and stepped beside Trudy. “Go get Shane.” Trudy shot me a grateful look before rushing out of the woman’s line of fire. I turned back with a forced smile. “What seems to be the problem?”

My stomach tightened as the young man’s hollow gaze found me again.

The woman was already mid-tirade, but I barely heard her.

With the anniversary of my parents’ death, the disturbing sightings I tried to deny intensified, spreading like a shadow over my day-to-day life. It hadn’t been this bad since I was a child—right before their deaths.

The woman turned to the little girl at her side and grabbed her arm, pulling her forward, snatching my attention back. “That blue-haired brat tried to blame my daughter for breaking this toy when it’s obvious it’s defective.”

“Ma’am,” Maya said, stepping alongside the counter. “Your daughter…”

“Yes, my daughter.”

“No. You’re hurting her.”

“What?” the woman sputtered, turning to look at her child. “No, I’m not. She’s crying because of the way that girl treated her.”

“Ma’am, you’re digging your nails into her arm. Look at the marks you’re leaving,” I said, glancing from the sharp nails pinching the girl’s bare arm to the woman’s scowl. I tried to ignore the whistling echoing through the store.

“Do not accuse me of harming my child.” The woman released the little girl. Fingerprints remained on her arm, edged with deep indentations where the woman’s talon-like nails had cut into her skin. “I will not be treated like this. First, that freak blames us for a cheap product. Now, these two…”

Maya stepped forward, but I grabbed her arm. “Maya—”

“What is going on out here?”

Maya and I both turned as Shane approached.

“Finally. Someone who looks like they know what they’re doing.” The woman held up the broken statue. “These girls have been nothing but rude to me. I tried to get a refund when this toy broke after only a couple of days. And what do they do? Accuse me of child abuse!”

The little girl averted her eyes, her resignation making it clear this was a routine occurrence.

My stomach sank as the eerie whistling cut through her rant.

Shane adjusted his tie and put his hands on his hips; his narrowed eyes cut from Maya to me. But my attention centered on the young man who now stood behind the woman in line.