Page 50 of A Witch's Guide to Surviving Halloween
Bzzz bzzz.
Bzzz bzzz.
I give the notifications lighting up my phone a cursory glance before flipping it over to lay face down on the granite coffee bar.
“She’s not going to stop,” Lucy warns me, topping a latte with some quick foam art and handing it off to the customer waiting nearby.
I sigh through my nose, resting my chin in my palm as I flip through my book of shadows laid open on the counter. “I know.”
I’ve almost gone through the entire book searching for any small hint at another way to break the curse. After hours of searching, I’m down to the last few pages and the last dregs of my hope. I woke up this morning with a refreshed determination to figure this out, to find the answer that felt so close and yet so far, but now I’m running out of ideasandtime.
Today is Halloween. If we can’t figure this out today, there’s a good chance we won’t have another chance until next year, and by then, it might be too late. It only took a year to run Oliver’s grandfather out of town, despite having an established family business with roots as deep as the oak behind the gazebo. Oliverjust got here. The magic could drive him out of town in record time, and our chance at resolving this could be gone forever.
Bzzz bzzz.
Bzzz bzzz.
I run my hands through my hair, suppressing the desire to pull it out by the roots, and groan instead.
I don’t even have to look to know it’s Stacy with a list of reminders, and several questions about when I plan to arrive, so I can give the commencement speech to indicate the start of Halloween. Tonight will be a night of downtown-wide trick-or-treating, costume contests, and more. Normally, I’d be giddy with excitement, waiting to see everyone—from babies in strollers to full-grown adults all dressed in creative costumes, both homemade and store-bought.
Our usual bowl of candy is already sitting on the counter by the register, waiting to be filled with the stockpile of candy I’ve been hoarding for weeks. I check the time, and there’s only an hour until I’m supposed to step on stage yet again. I’m already nauseous at the prospect.
Thankfully, the store has been slow today with everyone preparing for tonight. I’m not sure how much longer I can maintain my pleasant demeanor without breaking down yet again.
“Maybe we need to lean into the chaos,” Lucy suggests, sipping on an iced pumpkin spice latte. I glance up at her from beneath my lashes, trying to decide if she’s serious or not.
“What?”
She shrugs, her oversized flannel sliding further off her shoulder. “Things are already crazy. Maybe we should just embrace it. Go have a night of fun with Oliver and let the magic have its hissy fit and call it Halloween fun.”
I stare at her. I know she’s trying to be funny, but I’m struggling to find the humor.
“The magic almost traumatized an entire audience just two nights ago by siccing Saw on Disney characters.”
Lucy grunts, stirring her drink with her straw. “Yeah, that was kind of a bummer”—a smile splits her face—“but you have to admit that would be such a funny crossover concept.”
My hands fall to the counter with athump. “You’re sick.”
“Oh, come on. Tell me you wouldn’t pay good money to watch Saw try to trap the princesses, only for Mulan to kick his ass? Nowthatwould be quality entertainment.”
I shake my head, refusing to engage in this conversation any further, and flip to the last page of the book.
Through The Veil
A temporary ritual to speak with a loved one on the night the veil between here and the other side is at its thinnest.
“Oh my . . .” My head whips up, and for a moment, I can’t even speak. I stare at Lucy with wide eyes.
How could I have forgotten about this?
“What? Did you find something?”
I spin the book around, pointing at the nearly translucent page. “The ‘Through The Veil’ ritual. This is it, this is how we ask Grandma what the lies were.Thisis how we fix everything.”
Lucy shakes her head, watching me with concern. “Amelia, you can’t. Absolutely not. Don’t you remember Grandma telling us to never do this? She didn’t even want us to know this existed.”
I scoff. “Of course I remember, but what other options are there?”
