Page 57 of The Queen's Box

“She’s always been like that,” Cole said. He dropped into the chair next to Brooxie and stretched his legs out. “Always there when the bad things happen—or just after. Always there before the dust settles.”

“What do you mean?”

“When my little brother, Micah, went missing, Amira was the first to show up. Before the sheriff. Before the church ladies. Said she ‘felt it in her bones.’ Said she knew she was ‘needed.’” He made finger quotes with a scowl. “Had a whole stack of casseroles already baked and wrapped in foil. Peach cobbler, too.”

“That’s super weird,” Willow said. “Did the police question her?”

Cole snorted.

Ruby wiped her hands on a dish towel and turned toward them. “Micah didn’t show up and didn’t show up. There were search parties, door-to-doors, all the things you’d expect. And I suspect the police did question Amira, but to what end? Nothing came of it.”

“Then things started changing,” Brooxie said. “Micah didn’t show up, bless his heart, but someone gave Cole’s dad a propanetank they had no need for. The roof got patched. Groceries stretched a little farther.”

“You think it was Amira?” Willow asked.

“Honey, we just don’t know,” Brooxie said.

“Iknow,” Cole said tightly. “I don’t know how she was involved. I have no proof that connects her to anything. But when my parents started asking around, she shook her head and said, ‘It sure would be a shame if this new streak of luck dried up. Maybe best to leave old tragedies where they lay.’”

Willow stared at him, stunned. “And your parents... ?”

“They had seven other mouths to feed,” he said. “And Micah...” He threw up his hands. “He was gone either way, wasn’t he? So, yeah, they shut up about it—and told me to, too.”

“But you didn’t,” Willow said.

“Nope, and I never will.”

Willow bit her lip. She wanted to say,Life sucks sometimes. I know. People do really shitty things, and they’re never held accountable.

She wanted to hug him.

Ruby and Brooxie exchanged a look, and Willow caught it. She flushed and stared at her lap.

“We know how it sounds,” Brooxie said. “But over the years, more kids have vanished. And those families? Somehow they start winning the lottery, too. A truck that broke down runs just fine the next week. A debt gets forgiven.”

“And Amira’s always there,” Ruby said. “With her casseroles and her condolences.”

“That’s why y’all said yes to taking me to her,” Willow said. “You used me to get closer to her.”

They didn’t deny it.

“You want information,” Willow went on. “About the Box. And about Amira.”

Cole looked at her evenly. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not your spy.”

“No,” Brooxie agreed. “But you are your grandmother’s granddaughter. You’ve got one foot in the old world and one in the new.”

The room went quiet.

Then Ruby clapped her hands once, brisk and bright. “All right, that’s enough talk. Dinner time.”

Willow startled. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding herself.

Ruby ladled steaming stew into bowls, the scent of rabbit and herbs thick in the air. Cornbread arrived next, dense and golden, with honey butter melting on top.

Willow took a bite. “Wow. This is incredible.”

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