The mayor gave them instructions on how to find the rest of the committee, then excused himself and ducked down a hallway. They didn’t need directions; it had been easy to find, thanks to an uproarious guffaw from Nathan. When Whitney Sadler and Susie Paulson had been on the committee, Nathan had been practically mute. He was a nice stay-at-home dad who was always exceedingly willing to help out the committee in any way needed, but he’d done so quietly. Now, it seemed, the reason why he’d been so quiet had been more about the company and less about his personality. He had a goofy, braying laugh that always made Ann Marie snort, which in turn got Chloe giggling.
Amber supposed they all had sensed something about Whitney and Susie was off, even if they hadn’t been fully conscious of it. Any person willing to plan the slow poisoning of another—regardless of the reason—was a psychopath.
If they had only sensed this about the pair sooner, Melanie might still have been here. She’d be giggling alongside Chloe at Nathan’s ridiculous laugh.
One of the few positive things that had come out of all this was that Ann Marie had become the head of volunteer services when Susie Paulson was removed, and then Chloe had joined as Ann Marie’s assistant. Amber hadn’t seen Chloe once she no longer needed a babysitter; she was happy she was able to spend more time with the girl now.
“Oh, hey, ladies!” Ann Marie said, waving from her spot beside a table laden with snacks.
Kimberly squealed and met Ann Marie halfway across the room, hugging her tightly. They were both brunettes, the same height, and had similarly bubbly personalities. Amber was fairly certain the pair had seen each other a couple of days ago, yet they greeted as if it had been months.
When they disengaged, Ann Marie smiled warmly at Amber. “Hey. How you holding up? Do the police have any leads on who vandalized Edgar’s place?”
Nathan, Kimberly, and Chloe all turned to her, expressions curious.
Chief Owen Brown knew the vandals in question were fictional, since he had been aware of Amber’s secret for a while now, but no one else did. She still wasn’t sure how he felt about all of this, but he hadn’t run into the Edgehill Gazette office yet, telling any reporter there who would listen that they had a witch in their midst.
The truth was, it had been one vandal, and by vandal, she meant a cursed Penhallow witch.
“Nope,” Amber said, offering a bewildered sigh. “The chief thinks it might have been some kind of gang initiation. I mean, hardly anyone goes out to that part of town, and most kids are scared of the place, so he doubts it was actually locals.”
Ann Marie had a hand to her chest. “A gang. Goodness. We don’t have gangs in Edgehill.”
“I bet it was kids from the town that shall not be named,” Chloe offered.
“Of course it was!” Ann Marie said.
Nathan lowered his voice a fraction and voiced something truly upsetting. “I had to go into Marbleglen last week to check their flower stock since the ones we need for the centerpieces for the gala might not be available in time.”
Ann Marie shuddered, then placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. There was no other choice.”
Nathan nodded solemnly. “The name of the shop I went into was called Garden Variety.”
“That’s not even clever!” Ann Marie said. “Ugh, that Marbleglen.”
The group at large sneered at the name of Edgehill’s rival town.
After a short bout of silence, Kim clapped her hands once and dispelled the tension. “Well!” she chirped. “Let’s take a few minutes to grab some snacks and use the facilities if necessary and then we can get started, hmm?” She looked around the room. “Chloe, hon, is your dad around?”
Before Chloe could reply, the crisp, clear voice of the mayor sounded as he walked into the dining area. “Sorry, everyone. Had to take a quick call.” He slipped his cell into the front pocket of his button-up shirt and smiled at the small group assembled.
Mayor Deidrick wasn’t handsome in the classical sense: he was of average height, had brown eyes, neatly cut brown hair streaked lightly with gray, and sported a few extra pounds in the middle. Amber thought her own father might have looked something like the mayor had he reached the same age. But what the mayor didn’t have in dashing good looks, he made up for with that X factor of politicians. Whether it was the way he carried himself, his thousand-watt smile, or his charming personality, Amber couldn’t be sure. She supposed it was all those things. In the wrong person, Frank Deidrick’s collection of attributes might come off as smarmy or overbearing—like a salesperson confidently convincing you to purchase something you both know you don’t need. But in the mayor, it resulted in an affable man who smiled easily and listened with great attention.
“What did I miss?” he asked.
Kim beamed at him. “Nothing yet, sir! We’re going to get started in just a few minutes.”
He playfully wagged a finger at Kim. “Now, what did I tell you about calling me sir, Miss Jones?”
Kim giggled. “Sorry … Frank.”
Grinning, he said, “That’s better.” His daughter stood nearby, and the mayor slung an arm over her shoulder. Chloe was a few inches shorter than him and tipped her head back to offer him a grin of her own. “You all right, kiddo?” he asked softly.
Chloe’s smile faltered a little and she nodded, looking away. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”
He squeezed her shoulder gently. “Promise?”
“Yeah,” she said.
He squeezed again and gave her a little shake. “Promise, promise?”
Chloe tried not to smile, but her efforts were in vain. “Yes, Dad. Geez.”
Frank kissed her temple and then unhanded her quickly, seemingly anticipating how much Chloe would be embarrassed by the affectionate gesture in a room full of people. The girl, who had lighter hair and eyes than her father, turned beet red.
“Dad,” she hissed.
Unfazed, he rounded the oblong wooden dining table that could easily seat ten and took a seat in the middle. Chloe semi-glared at her father and sat across from him.
Amber’s magic was calmer here inside than it had been in the car, but she still felt jittery, so she opted to skip the snacks and took a seat beside Chloe. She did her best to ignore the mayor across from her, who was making silly faces at Chloe—who also attempted to ignore him, but she eventually caved and cracked up.
“I’m fine, Dad,” she said laughing.
He nodded, satisfied.
After a few minutes of perusing the snack table behind them, Ann Marie, Kim, and Nathan joined them at the table, their plates piled with fruits and pastries. Kim sat on Chloe’s other side, while Nathan and Ann Marie sat on either side of the mayor.
“So, Kimberly,” the mayor said, hands folded on the table, “how do you like being the head of the committee this year?”
“Oh!” Kim said, hastily putting down a blueberry scone that Amber had a sneaking suspicion was one of Jack Terrence’s. “It’s been great, even though I wish I’d come into the position under better circumstances.”
“Speaking of, and not to step on toes or anything,” the mayor said, “but what do you think of creating a memorial for Melanie at Balinese Park? We could unveil it during the Here and Meow. The park is in need of a revamped rose garden—do you think she would have liked to have one named after her?”
Kim leaned forward at the same time Amber did, to better see around Chloe between them, and they grinned at each other, nodding in unison. Kim turned her attention back to the mayor. “She would have been delighted. What a lovely idea.”
The mayor nodded. “I’ll get started on that right away.”
Kim’s chair creaked slightly as she bent over to grab her bag. She pulled out a file folder and plucked a few papers out of it, then deposited the bag back onto the floor. “So far, we’re right on schedule for the Here and Meow preparations, with the exception of the centerpieces needed for the Hair Ball. We’re working on getting those, but otherwise, everything should be ready in two weeks for the gala. I also just finalized the list for all the businesses selected for the Best of Edgehill competition.”
Kim took the topmost sheet and passed the rest to her left toward Chloe. After Amber took hers, she slid the remainder of the stack across the table to Nathan. Once everyone had one, Kim said, “Eighty percent of the tickets for the gala have already sold.”
The gala had been the mayor’s brainchild—and one he’d used as part of his campaign to win his election. The idea had been popular with prospective voters and with the Here and Meow Committee alike. The first gala had been held that following March and was a roaring success. It was already proving to be even more popular in its second year.
Everyone who purchased a ticket to the elegant evening got a fun night of dancing and food, but they also were purchasing the chance to vote for which businesses in town would be given the “Best of” designation during the three-day Here and Meow Festival.
There were twelve categories this year, up from last year’s eight: coffee, treats, pizza, comfort food, healthy eats, clothing, home decor, weekend hangout spot, entertainment, nightlife, hotel, and leisure. Over the course of the last few months, the committee—with votes submitted by Edgehill residents thanks to ads placed in the Edgehill Gazette—had narrowed the list down to two or three per category. At the gala, each business was encouraged to attend and present their best offerings. Those in attendance voted on their favorites, and each of those businesses received a “Best of Edgehill” label and several perks.
One such perk was having a Scavenger Hunt Bingo square. During the festival, a scavenger hunt was held, and each participant was given a Bingo-like card with twelve squares on it. Every visit to one of the “Best of” shops earned the attendee a stamp. A card with all twelve stamps was then turned in at a designated location, and the attendee received a commemorative pin. The design of the pin would change every year; the artists who got to design the swag and the Here and Meow logo were also chosen during the gala. The pin from last year had already become a collector’s item.
Aside from the added foot traffic that came from attendees attempting to complete their cards, each “Best of” shop was to create a featured item that would be offered for free to any attendee who spent at least ten dollars in the shop in question. The Here and Meow provided a huge uptick in business for Edgehill in general, but the “Best of” designation was so lucrative, a few of the chosen businesses last year had made almost as much in three days as they had all year.
Attending the gala was not only a fun experience for the wealthier residents of Edgehill, but it was also an opportunity to give businesses a boost they otherwise wouldn’t have had. Last year, the candy shop Lollicat, owned by Olivia Dawson, had been named “Best of” in the treats category and had done so well during the festival, the business was now opening franchises in three other cities in the country—and Olivia’s online store was so popular, it wasn’t rare for her shop to sell out completely around major holidays.
Amber noted that Jack Terrence’s shop, Purrcolate, was on the list not once, but twice—the only business to be up for the prize in two categories. He was in competition with both the hateful Paulette Newsom of Clawsome Coffee for the coffee category, as well as Betty Harris of Purrfectly Scrumptious for the treats category. As much as she’d hoped to avoid Jack—say, for all of time—she knew she would have to see him in a couple of weeks at the gala at the very least, but likely much sooner. Her traitorous heart hoped he won the coffee category, not only because Paulette was terrible, but because she truly wished to see his business do well.
She was torn about the treats category, because as much as she adored his scones and had a feeling that getting the “Best of” label would be the kick in the keister he needed to convince him to take his pastry business to the next level, Amber absolutely adored Betty and Purrfectly Scrumptious. People already traveled far and wide to Betty’s shop for her sinfully delicious cupcakes, regardless of the time of year, but Amber would love to see the woman get all the recognition she deserved.
Coffee: Purrcolate, Clawsome Coffee, and Coffee Cat
Treats: Purrcolate vs. Purrfectly Scrumptious
Pizza: Patch’s Pizza vs. Cateroni’s Corner
Comfort food: Catty Melt vs. Mews and Brews
Healthy eats: The Milk Bowl vs. Holly’s Harvest
Clothing: Angora Threads vs. Shabby Tabby
Home decor: Pawterry House vs. Hiss and Hers
Weekend hangout: Point and Pounce vs. Purrfect Pitch
Entertainment: Tell Me a Tail vs. Feline Groovy
Nightlife: The Applaws vs. Just Kitten Comedy Club
Hotel: The Manx vs. Tropical Purradise
Leisure: Feline Fine Day Spa vs. Claws and Paws
Emceed by: Henry and Danielle of 98.9 K-Mew
While Amber looked over the impressive array of participants this year, she couldn’t help but notice that Chloe beside her was more focused on the phone in her lap than she was on the sheet of paper on the table. Amber couldn’t tell what the girl was looking at, but if she had to guess, she would have said she was messaging someone. It looked more like a series of texts than anything, but even that didn’t seem quite right.
Chloe looked up suddenly and caught Amber’s gaze. The girl flushed, muttered an apology, and powered off her phone, which she tucked under her thigh.
Flicking a look toward the mayor, Amber saw that he was eyeing his daughter, his brows pulled together. Amber couldn’t tell if the look was one of annoyance or concern, but she supposed most parents of teenagers looked at their children that way most of the time. His gaze slid to Amber and he offered a slight shrug of one shoulder, as if to say, “What can you do?” and returned his attention to Kim who was still chattering away.
Amber knew that Chloe, in her senior year of high school, was gunning to be valedictorian, participated in a handful of school clubs, and was in the running to be Miss Here and Meow. And, of course, she was Ann Marie’s assistant for volunteer services for the festival. She was also turning eighteen in a month and there was a rumor that she’d already started getting college acceptance letters. The girl had a lot on her plate and she was on the precipice of her first major life change—Amber figured both father and daughter were a ball of nerves for different reasons.
After another twenty minutes or so, while the mayor was in the middle of asking Kim something, someone cleared her throat from the hallway behind Amber. “Excuse me, Mr. Deidrick?”
Frank slammed a hand on the table. “What did I tell you about interrupting my meetings, Ingrid?”
Everyone at the table, Chloe included, flinched. Amber’s shoulders were bunched up by her shoulders.
“I’m … I’m very sorry, sir,” the woman said.
The group was frozen like statues, but Amber turned her head slightly and spotted a middle-aged redhead standing in the doorway, her face a brilliant red. Her head was bowed, like a small child who had just been scolded.
The seconds ticked by in silence.
“Out with it, Ingrid,” the mayor said. “As you can see, we’re busy. It’s terribly rude to keep all these people hostage.”
“You have a phone call, sir,” she said quickly. “It’s … Francine. Again.”
“And I told you I do not want to speak with her—especially not now.”
“I know, sir, but she says she won’t stop calling until she talks to you,” Ingrid squeaked out. “And she said if that doesn’t work, she’ll just show up.”
When Amber glanced back at the mayor, she saw his nostrils flare. His fists were balled on the table.
Frank pushed his chair back. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this. Please continue without me; Chloe can catch me up on anything I miss.” With a nod and another apology, he stalked out of the room. Ingrid had already fled.
“Awk-ward,” Chloe sing-songed, breaking the tense silence.
Kim chuckled nervously. “Why don’t we take a little break and see if he can join us again in ten minutes or so, hmm?”
Nathan and Ann Marie were up in an instant and were beelining for the snack table again. Kim busied herself with pulling more things out of her bag.
With everyone distracted, Amber turned to Chloe. “You okay?”
Chloe’s gaze had been glued to her phone again, but she quickly turned off the screen and offered Amber a small smile. “Yep, all good. Dad just gets grouchy sometimes. Okay, a lot.”
Interesting. Motioning to Chloe’s phone with her chin, Amber asked, “And that?”
Chloe shrugged good-naturedly. “Just making plans with a friend.”
She scanned the girl’s sweet, heart-shaped face for a moment. “Well, in that case, where can I find the restroom?”
Chewing her lip and staring at Amber as if she’d just asked her to answer a complicated math equation, Chloe finally said, “Down the hall, make a left toward the staircase, then go up and it’ll be the second door on your left.”
Amber would have thought there would be a restroom downstairs but didn’t question it and excused herself from the table. Once closed inside the bathroom—decorated in a beach theme that was all soft blues and creamy whites—Amber peeked out the window. The rain had started in earnest since her arrival here. The bathroom faced the backyard, and the trees there were still stark and bare, buds only just starting to sprout up on branches that were swaying in the wind. Their spindly limbs looked almost sinister with a backdrop of such dark, heavy clouds. A bright burst of lightning lit up the sky on the horizon.
“One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, three—” CRASH.
Amber flinched as thunder rumbled so loud, she could have sworn she felt it in the soles of her boots. The lightning electrified her magic and sent it zipping through her bloodstream. She looked around the room to find some small object she could use her magic on to dispel some of it so she could at least settle her stomach and claim some of those pastries downstairs before Nathan and Ann Marie ate them all.
She had just picked up a small, smooth seashell out of a decorative dish on the counter when a soft knock sounded. Brow furrowed, Amber put the shell back and opened the door. Chloe stood on the other side, a look on her face that reminded Amber so much of the five-year-old Chloe who had just secretly eaten her weight in cookies while Amber was focused on making dinner, that Amber almost laughed.
But a look such as this on a seventeen-year-old’s face was much more worrying.
“Chloe? What’s wrong?”
“Can I come in?” she asked, as if Amber lived in their upstairs bathroom and Chloe had stopped by to visit.
Amber stepped aside, then closed the door behind Chloe. “Should I run the tap to drown out our conversation? Don’t they do that in movies?”
Chloe laughed slightly at that, then plopped onto the closed toilet lid. She let out a long weary sigh.
Amber leaned her hip against the counter, crossed her arms, and jutted her chin at the teenager. “All right, girl, spill. What’s going on?”
Thunder rumbled outside and they both flinched. Rain pelted the bathroom window.
“So …” Chloe sighed again, hands on her knees. Then she wrinkled her nose. “It’s about a boy.”
Amber grinned. “Okay, so I absolutely want you to dish every detail, but I would like to state for the record that my love life is currently abysmal, so I would take all my advice with a grain of salt.”
“It can’t be that abysmal,” Chloe said. “I heard you were dating two guys—at the same time.”
Good grief. This was a definite downside to living in a small town. Amber wasn’t even going to bother to ask how Chloe had heard such a thing. It hardly mattered at this point. “I was only half dating one of them and it fully didn’t work out. I’m too weird to date.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Chloe said, giving Amber a once-over. “Guys like weird.”
Amber snorted. “Does your guy like weird?”
“Ugh. We only have like eight minutes before the break is over so I can’t go into everything, but we can talk about it all later. I mean, if you want to? I know we haven’t seen each other as much lately, but you’ve always been one of my favorite people to talk to.”
Amber was so touched, her eyes welled up a little. “I just sort of want to hug you right now.”
“No hugging! We only have seven minutes now.”
Amber shook out her hands, mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key, and then gestured for Chloe to continue.
“You’re such a dork,” Chloe said, laughing. “Okay, so there’s this app called Scuttle that’s basically a place to chat and share stuff anonymously. Mostly younger people use it but there are adults and stuff on there too. Anyway, I’ve been talking to a guy on there for a while now. Like … three months? He’s super sweet and a really good listener. We tell each other everything, you know? I like him a lot. A lot, a lot. And he really likes me too, but he’s been kinda pushing me lately to meet him.”
Five hundred red flags were flapping in the wind in Amber’s head. Maybe even a red banner whipping about in a torrential gale that would put the storm outside to shame.
“Okay, wait, before you say anything,” Chloe said, hands out in a placating gesture, “I know this sounds like it could be dangerous. But he’s sent me pictures—well, a picture—and we’ve talked on the phone a couple of times. He lives in Belhaven. There are chat rooms on Scuttle for different interests—like movies or TV or whatever. I was in one of the chat rooms and posted a picture of myself and there was an Edgehill sign in the background. He freaked out because, like, what are the odds that two people from really small towns so close together happen to find each other?”
Amber pursed her lips.
Chloe started talking fast—whether trying to get in as much information during their break as possible or wanting to dominate the conversation so Amber couldn’t voice her concerns, Amber wasn’t sure. “He’s a little older—nineteen—and he’s still in Belhaven because he’s working on an online course to get his AA and then he’s going to transfer to a college outside Portland. He’s almost done and plans to move in the next six months, so we’re kind of running out of time to meet in person while he’s still close by. I don’t feel nervous about the guy at all. I’ve gotten to know him so well. The problem is that my dad doesn’t want me to date until I’m like ninety. He’ll be so mad if I tell him; he’s so unreasonable about certain things. But I’m going to be eighteen in a month—technically an adult—and then he can’t really tell me who I can date. I’m going to college; he won’t even know if I’m dating.”
“You said this guy has been pushing you to meet him?” Amber said when Chloe paused long enough to suck in air.
“Pushing is strong,” Chloe said. “We just really get each other, you know? And he’s so hot—what if I wait too long to meet him and some other girl snatches him up?”
“If he’s meant to be with you, he won’t be distracted by someone else,” Amber said.
Chloe huffed. “I knew you’d say that.” After a pause, she said, “You want to see his picture?”
Amber wasn’t sure how seeing this guy would help, but her curiosity got the better of her and she nodded.
Chloe pulled her phone out of her back pocket, tapped the screen a few times, swiped a few more, and then held the phone up for Amber to see. The young guy smiling back at her was attractive, and had a wide, easy smile. The background behind him implied he was standing outside—maybe at a park or in his yard at home—but the majority of the greenish backdrop was blurry. The boy had his hands clasping the back of his neck and he was grinning up at the camera. Maybe his mother took it. Two bracelets made of brown wooden beads ringed one wrist. As cute as the boy was, there was something … staged about the picture. Didn’t kids these days only take selfies?
As Amber studied Chloe, who had retracted her arm and was staring wistfully down at the smiling boy, the red flag in her mind snapped in the wind again. “What’s the urgency?”
Chloe glanced up. “I told you. He’s moving—”
Amber shook her head. “Try again.”
The girl sighed. “He’s going to be in Edgehill tonight.” She started swiping at the screen again. “He’s really sweet, too. Look, he got me flowers.”
Chloe held out the phone to Amber again and showed her a photograph of six red roses in a thin glass vase. A tan-colored card was tied around the vase with black ribbon. When Chloe pulled her hand back, gaze focused on her phone, she said, “The card says, ‘To my Kitty Cat—” she glanced up at Amber for a second—“he calls me that since I come from the quote-unquote cat town.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “To my Kitty Cat, you make every day brighter. Love, Snugglebear.”
Chloe flushed.
“Snugglebear?” Amber asked. “Anything to do with Belhaven High’s mascot being a bear?”
Laughing, Chloe nodded. “I know it’s all kind of silly, but it’s sweet, too, don’t you think? He wants to give me the flowers tonight.”
Another boom of thunder rumbled outside, mirroring Amber’s thoughts. “You can’t go out in this.” She waved vaguely at the storm outside.
“We planned to meet at the arcade,” Chloe said, as if she hadn’t heard anything Amber had just said. “That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Meet in a public place?”
Amber sighed.
“Bethany is going, too! That’s who I was talking to earlier during the meeting,” Chloe added, clearly sensing that if Amber had been on Chloe’s side when this conversation started, she surely no longer was. “I’ll be safe. I promise. I’ll text when I get there and when I leave. Bethany and I will stick together. No going to a second location with a guy or anything. I’m not dumb, Amber. I promise I know what I’m doing.”
“Then why are you telling me this and not your dad?” Amber asked.
“Because he doesn’t want me to date,” Chloe said. “I just told you that.”
“But he is a reasonable guy even if you don’t always see it that way,” Amber said. “I couldn’t in good conscience know you’re going out with some guy you’ve never met in person before and not let your dad know.”
Chloe stared at her with her mouth slightly agape, her brow furrowed. She looked like Amber had just kicked her in the gut.
“I know you’re mad at me right now, but either you tell your dad about this, or I do,” Amber said. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or your judgment—you’re one of the smartest people I know—but that doesn’t mean I trust anyone else. I would never forgive myself if we didn’t tell your dad where you were planning to go and something happened to you.”
Jaw clenched, Chloe folded her arms across her chest and stared up at the window being pelted by rain.
Amber moved to squat in front of Chloe, who still sat on the closed toilet lid. “Hey. Look at me.”
It took the girl a moment, but she finally did, her eyes rimmed with silver.
“Do you like this guy?” Amber said. “Deep in your gut, do you like him?”
Chloe nodded.
“Is he important to you?”
She nodded again.
“Tell your dad that. He’s worried about you—you’re all he’s got. That’s what makes him so protective. But we’re protective of the things and people we love,” Amber said. “He would be more hurt that you didn’t think you could tell him any of this. Plus, if you have to sneak around to do something, there’s likely a problem with it. So tell your dad. Let him know how much this means to you.”
Chloe sniffed hard. “He’ll probably want to go with me on the date. I’ll be stuck with Bethany bored out of my mind while Johnny and my dad talk about football or something dumb.”
Amber laughed softly. “Would that be so bad, though? To not have to hide that part of your life from your dad? He’s your biggest fan, you know.”
Chloe rolled her eyes at that, but she managed a watery laugh. “Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing if the two of them got along.”
“Thatta girl,” Amber said, standing up, then held out a hand and helped the girl up. “Just be honest with him. He’ll listen.”
Chloe still looked dubious.
“And, in case he doesn’t, call me, okay?” she asked. “We can talk about this as much as you want if he shuts you down. You still have my number?”
She hit a few things on her phone, then swiped up on her screen. “Yeah, I’ve got it. And I’ve had the same number since I was twelve.”
“Good. Call or text any time. Day or night,” Amber said.
The girl nodded.
Once Chloe had splashed water on her face and gotten herself under control, Amber led them out of the bathroom, but came up short almost immediately. Mayor Deidrick stood in the hallway, looking even more startled than Amber felt. Her mental red flag, though, gave another frantic flap. The mayor looked nearly as guilty as his daughter had earlier. Had he been listening at the door?
The rumble of thunder that sounded moments later told her that even if he had been listening, the raging storm outside had likely drowned out a lot of their conversation.
“Hey, Dad,” Chloe said shakily, moving to stand beside Amber. “Could I talk to you about something?”
His posture relaxed at the question. “Of course, pumpkin.”
Amber’s chest twinged at the nickname; her own father had called her that when Amber was around Chloe’s age now. The memory spell she’d inadvertently cast a couple of weeks ago had allowed her to relive one of the moments when her father had called her that. Somehow it felt as if it had happened just yesterday and, at the same time, a lifetime ago.
“I’ll see you downstairs in a bit,” Amber said, and gave Chloe’s arm an encouraging squeeze.
Once on the stairs, Amber glanced up just before the landing above would be obscured from view, and she saw the mayor drape an arm around Chloe’s shoulder as they walked slowly down the hallway. Please let him listen to her.
The meeting went on for another half hour, but neither the mayor nor Chloe came back down. As they packed up, Ingrid bustled into the room to help clear the plates and uneaten snacks. The mayor didn’t even emerge to bid the committee members goodbye. Amber had to hope that meant he and Chloe were having a deep heart-to-heart and had lost track of the time.
Kim and Amber ran to Kim’s car, their coats draped over their heads in an attempt to shield themselves from the rain. Amber’s magic was even twitchier outside. Thunder rumbled.
As Amber stared out of the rain-streaked passenger-seat window and toward the house, she hoped forcing Chloe to air her secrets to her father had been good advice.