Page 3 of Death and Do-Overs

I slipped the photo back into its place and checked out the jars markedwhisperson the table beside it before moving on. Did they contain hopes, fears, or secrets? And where exactly did those whispers come from?

Content, I walked and walked, basking in the familiar yet newly-deepened magic of my surroundings.

If anyone ever asked me where I’d learned of the market, first I’d deny its existence. People were spectacularly adept at ruining good things.

Second, if further conversation was unavoidable, I’d tell them as flatly as humanly possible that I’d found the market on the dark web. I found this sort of response would discombobulate and therefore distract most people. In reality, the only dark web I’d ever encountered had been weaved by a spider in the corner of my grandmother’s fireplace.

The truth to my discovery of this ephemeral event was far more mundane.

A few years ago, I happened upon a flier tucked inside a toxic herbs gardening manual at my favorite used bookstore. A large image had filled the crumpled page, advertising a one-eyed taxidermied fox dressed in reading glasses and a lab coat. The flier suggested the fox was for sale at a secret marketplace filled with oddities. To say my interest was piqued would be an understatement.

That first night, I didn’t end up buying the fox, as it had already been sold over a year prior. Plus, even though peopletook in my head-to-toe vampire-esque appearance and assumed I was the type of person who collected dead things, I wasn’t.

But whether or not I intended to buy anything, I’d made a point to come to the midnight market every chance I could after that.

I reached the next stall and paused.

There, on a blanket on the ground, was the taxidermied fox who’d first lured me to this place years ago. I didn’t remember the starched collar and curled tails of his lab coat from the photo.

Had someone returned him, displeased in some way with his frozen bedside manner?

A shame, for sure.

While I would never ever even consider making a purchase like this, there was something about the fox that made me feel…I wasn’t sure what.

“He’s calling to you,” a deep voice said.

I glanced over to see if the owner of the voice was speaking to me.

I found a large man with golden hair and bright eyes staring back at me. His irises were so green and so bright they seemed to draw in all of the light from the moon. When I glanced away, the world felt a little darker than it had before. Everything he wore was white—his shirt, his pants, his shoes, his jacket. How completely impractical.

He slid his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels.

“You should buy the doctor.” He nodded toward the fox.

There was a quality to this man, an unnatural charisma that nearly pulled a smile from my lips.

I didn’t care for it.Icontrolled my emotions, no one else.

“I’m not interested.” I moved on to the next stall, away from Mr. Eyes.

He followed.

“You need him. I can tell,” he said, clearly desperate for the sale.

I watched him trace his fingers across a display of silk scarves. The beads affixed to the ends of the silk jingled like wind chimes. His touch was so soft, I could almost feel it across my shoulders as I watched.

My voice sounding more affected than I cared for, I repeated, “I said no.”

Mr. Eyes shrugged, like it didn’t matter to him, like he hadn’t pursued me. He turned on his heel to go.

And just like when I’d first pulled my gaze from his, the world seemed to grow a little bit darker. A knot formed in the center of my chest.

I should have let him go. Instead, words poured from my lips. “What makes you think the fox is a doctor?”

Mr. Eyes flashed me a gorgeous smile, and my insides both clenched and heated in response.

“The obvious answer would be his lab coat,” he said.

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