Page 8 of Charlotte's Story
“Were they?” I asked.
Tessa moved slowly across the yard, one hand extended and faint blue magic shimmering around her fingers that raised the hair on my arms. “No signs of a struggle in the yard,” she said to an officer next to her.
The air tingled faintly, the way it always did after fae magic—like static and peppermint.
“She was definitely killed by fae magic,” the officer murmured back.
It was quiet enough that I realized the people around me had also stopped gossiping to listen in on the officers.
“Mrs. Collins,” a man called.
The woman next to me nudged me. “Isn’t that you, dear?”
“What?” I jerked around.
“They’re calling you over,” the woman said. “I know it’s a bit jarring to hear your new name. I remember when I got married almost two hundred years ago—”
“Oh hush, Lenora, or the poor girl will be stuck here all night and the police will never get to talk to her,” Harold said.
The woman, Lenora, scowled.
“Mrs. Collins, can you come here please?” an officer repeated patiently.
“I better go see what they need,” I told the group before they could get into it anymore. My footsteps crunched through the snow, no longer a smooth blanket but a chaotic mess of prints that led toward the trees.
I made my way to the police car where Tessa stood next to an older officer with black hair and dark brown eyes. Firth sat in the back seat, his face pale, hair disheveled, and expression blank. A blanket was wrapped loosely around his shoulders, but he wasstill running a hand along the cuff of his sweater as if it was the only thing grounding him in the moment.
It was odd seeing Firth in the back of a police car. Wrong somehow.
“I’m Officer Hernandez,” the older officer said, pulling his wool cap low over his ears. “Sorry to tear you away from your friends, but we were hoping to ask you a few more questions.”
“Of course. I’ll do whatever I can,” I said, doing my best to steady my voice.
“Would you mind clarifying a few things for us?” Tessa asked, her voice strangely formal.
I nodded, and Officer Hernandez rolled down the back window so Firth could join the conversation. The protective runes etched into the door glowed with a faint golden light.
For a long moment, Firth didn’t react, then he turned his head slightly, the movement slow and uncertain. He stared at me, blinking once or twice before his hand stilled on his sweater.
“You got married today, correct?” Tessa asked.
“Right.” I chewed on my bottom lip, giving her a questioning look.
Firth gave me a hesitant smile. “Congratulations!”
I blinked. Why was he saying it like that?
“And when were you supposed to leave for your honeymoon?” Tessa continued.
“Tonight.” I watched Firth carefully. He flinched as the lights flashed again. “We were about to leave when he got a call from Lady Catherine.”
“You know Lady Catherine?” Firth’s smile turned genuine. “Isn’t she simply amazing? I’ve never met a woman with more poise or grace. I’m lucky that my home is so close to Rosings Park, because—”
Officer Hernandez put his mittened hand on his shoulder, and Firth fell silent.
“And can you confirm the name of your groom for everyone here?” Tessa shot me a small frown.
I narrowed my eyes, pulling the blanket tighter like a shield. “What are you talking about, Tessa? You were there. You know who my groom was.”
