Chapter Three

I was halfway home before it hit me that I’d stolen a car. Slamming the breaks, I veered to the side of the road, dizzy, exhausted, and desperate.

Someone laid on their horn as they blew past me.

Stupid. I banged my head against the steering wheel. So stupid. Where was I supposed to go now? Home? With a stolen car? What if there were security cameras at the fair? Or that guy identified me? Did the police already have my name?

I wanted to drive between the trees and speed deep into the forest. Maybe become a hedge witch in some backwater Adirondack town.

My phone rang. I picked it up without checking the screen. Only one person ever called, and she tended to sense when I’d gotten myself into a mess. “Mom? I did the stupidest thing.”

“I doubt it, cupcake. Unless you’re pregnant by a drummer. That would be stupid.”

I blinked, then squinted at the screen. Area code 575? “Who is this?”

“Your great-aunt, apparently. What did you do that’s so stupid?”

“Agatha?” I squeaked. Months of summer and she called now?

“In the flesh. Or the voice. Now tell me. What have you done?”

“I…” Burned down the county fair and stole a getaway vehicle? I couldn’t say that. She’d never hire me.

“The truth.” Her voice was firm.

“I didn’t mean to.” Once I broke the seal, the story spilled through my lips from creepy Trevor to my accidental magic outburst and running from the scene of the crime. “So, I’m sitting on the side of the road, wondering if there’s any way to fix this.”

Agatha’s full-throated laugh was such a shock that I elbowed the horn.

“You sounded so boring in your letter. I’m relieved.”

“Relieved?” That I was about to get arrested? “I don’t understand.”

“Are you still looking for work?”

“At Agatha’s Bakeshop?”

“Well, I don’t own a shoe store.”

Was this really happening? Any of it? “I’ll scrub the floors. I’ll wash dishes if—”

“I already have a cleaning staff. I need a baker. How soon can you move to town?”

“Now. Right now.” Stolen car and all. Hell. I’d walk to New Mexico in Darcy’s flip-flops.

“Let’s say Monday?” A keyboard clicked in the background. “And do you have any questions, or are you busy running from the cops?”

Only a million. Why now? Why me? Would Mom even let me go?

I swallowed down the spring of curiosity. If I started asking, I’d never stop. “I’d better take care of my mess.”

“I’ll spring you from the slammer if need be. You’re my apprentice now.”

Apprentice.

My chest expanded like a birthday balloon. Agatha’s apprentice.

This was the best day of my life.

Or the best minute of my life.

Red and blue lights flashed. A pack of cop cars was tearing down the road.

Three guesses who they were after.