Chapter 3
LIZZY
Lizzy had been in survival mode when she packed up her belongings and left for Pumpkin Hollow. She’d driven straight there and hadn’t stopped to look at a calendar.
The road turned winding, and the trees lining it were crimson and ochre.
A gentle breeze picked up fallen leaves, and they danced on the wind.
Seeing that, she felt a fluttering of nostalgia in her empty chest. It must be nearly Halloween, one of the most festive times of the year in Pumpkin Hollow.
On Halloween, there was The Pumpkin Festival that she and her family used to attend.
Frank Jr. was never one for big shows of emotion, but he loved Halloween.
He’d decorate the house with those cheap plastic spiderwebs, fake skeletons, and gravestones and put out heaps of candy for trick-or-treaters.
She had a vivid memory of holding onto Frank’s hand, swinging between him and her mom, as they strolled through the fairgrounds before stopping at the diner’s booth, where they sold funnel cakes and apples dipped in thick gooey layers of caramel and bright purple and green sprinkles.
Just thinking of it made a lump rise in her throat.
Over the drive back to Pumpkin Hollow, she’d had time to think and cry.
For the first time in a long time, she was the one in the driver’s seat.
Er—literally. Up until now, her entire life had been dictated by the wants of others.
Her mom, her boyfriends, her bosses. And now her father was dictating her next move from beyond the grave.
She couldn’t keep repeating this pattern over and over.
It was time she called the shots. She’d take this opportunity to figure out what direction her life was going to take. On her terms.
She turned down the main drag of the city, and it was exactly as she remembered—a line of cozy shops nestled all together, painted in bright colors.
She saw businesses and landmarks she remembered—the bed-and-breakfast, the churchyard filled with rows of old tombstones, the post office, the bakery, the apothecary, and the local café.
There was a new bookstore in town that piqued her interest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d read a book.
There hadn’t been time. Maybe she’d pop in and buy one of those new romantasy novels she kept hearing about.
Pumpkin Hollow was the quintessential small town.
A blond with a short bob glided past on a broom, a mail satchel slung across her body.
And Lizzy did a double take. It’d been so long since she’d lived in the magic world, she’d forgotten the casual displays of power.
Pumpkin Hollow was a regular small New England town with one big exception.
Centuries ago, a coven of witches had settled in what had then been a remote village.
They’d cast spells to keep humans out. Over the years, it’d begun to attract other paranormals.
Shifters, vampires, zombies, and cryptids of all types made their home here.
No one had to hide who they were in this town. They could just be. Something that was wound tight in her chest loosened at the thought. She’d been living stealthily in the mundane world for years. Bouncing from city to city. It’d be nice to not have to hide for a while.
At the end of the street was Frank’s Diner.
The building’s paint was faded, the red trim was cracked, and the teal accents had faded to a baby-blue.
The glass in the windows had clouded over with age.
But other than those things, it was exactly as she remembered.
She pulled into one of the empty parking spots in front of the diner, rather than into the driveway of her childhood home, which was behind the diner.
She wasn’t quite ready to face that task, which would feel like a specter of her past, yet.
She’d decided on the drive over to sell both the house and the diner.
This place was her father’s dream, not hers.
If she were going to live for herself, she couldn’t live in the past.
While she’d been packing her things and preparing to come stay in Pumpkin Hollow, she’d been coordinating with Victor, and they’d planned to meet at the diner.
It felt like neutral territory, and she wouldn’t have to discuss her father’s will amongst his worldly possessions.
There’d be time later to literally unpack all that trauma.
She hadn’t asked, but she assumed Victor was some sort of lawyer.
He had been student body president and talked frequently about going to Yale or some other Ivy League after high school.
She had no idea how he’d become friends with Frank Jr. But she supposed she could ask him.
Maybe he’d have advice for her on how to best unload this property.
Were there people in the market for run-down diners in mysterious, remote magic towns?
She shook her head. A problem for later.
She pulled down her visor and tucked a strand of her white fringe out of her face.
Her red heart-shaped glasses were foggy, and she took them off before wiping them with a micro towel she kept in her glove box.
Then she checked her reflection one final time and reapplied her lipstick.
Vanity made her want to look her best when seeing an old friend.
She was great; everything would be fine. It was business. Victor wouldn’t care if there were bags under her eyes or if her clothes were wrinkled.
With a deep breath, she stepped out of her car and walked the few steps towards the entrance. She was two feet from the door when someone called her name.
“Lizzy, is that you?” said a familiar voice.
She flinched and turned to see Gertrude, one of the diner’s regulars from when she was a kid, who impossibly hadn’t aged a day in over twenty years since Lizzy had moved away.
“Gertrude, you’re still alive,” Lizzy blurted, too stunned for polite conversation.
“And kicking.” She cackled, giving a little shimmy. “Give me a hug, kiddo.”
Her impulse was to refuse, but the knee-jerk people-pleasing tendency had Lizzy leaning in for a bony hug. She regretted it instantly. In close proximity, she was struck with a wave of pity and grief from Gertrude.
It hit her like a freight train, and she resisted the urge to reel back from her to separate from the emotions wafting off the old woman. Instead, Lizzy retreated into that numb place, and the buzz of others’ emotions seemed to fade away.
“Sorry about Frank. He was a good one,” Gertrude said, patting her back.
“Yeah,” Lizzy replied, voice monotone.
“You must be in shock. It was so sudden. When was the last time you saw one another? I know I haven’t seen you in town since you and your mother moved away.
How is she, by the way?” Gertrude asked invasive questions rapid fire.
If Lizzy didn’t disengage, she’d be recounting her entire life’s story all afternoon.
“She’s good, and I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got a meeting.” Lizzy thumbed towards the door, slowly backing away.
Gertrude flapped her hand and smirked. “Of course, of course. You and Victor have lots to talk about.”
She didn’t need to ask how she knew. Even when Lizzy was a teenager, Gertrude was constantly meddling in everyone’s business.
With her back to the door, Lizzy waved at Gertrude as the old woman walked down Main Street to be certain she didn’t follow her inside and keep pestering her with questions.
Not paying attention to her surroundings, Lizzy collided with a very large, very firm body.
Lizzy yelped and tried to reverse course, but lost her balance on her kitten heels and tipped forward. She would have fallen face-first onto the pavement if it weren’t for the broad hand that reached to steady her with a flat palm against her belly.
“Careful,” he rumbled in her ear, his warm breath fanning against the back of her neck.
While it wasn’t out of character for her to run into people accidentally, what was shocking was that this stranger, who’d saved her from face-planting on the sidewalk, had zero emotions.
No surprise, no annoyance, nothing. Either she’d gone fully numb, or this was Victor.
He was the only other person she’d ever met whose feelings she couldn’t read. Besides her father.
She turned her head, her nose nearly brushing against his scarred teal cheek. She spun around and took in the nearly seven-foot-tall wall of patchy teal skin, the face bisected by scars, and the long black hair pulled up in the sluttiest man bun she’d ever seen.
It took her point five seconds to recognize the towering statue of reanimated and sculpted man flesh.
Victor, devastatingly, hadn’t peaked in high school.
If anything, he’d gotten hotter. Life really wasn’t fair.
He was staring at her intensely, his dark brows furrowed.
And not for the first time, she wished she could read his emotions.
Was he mad at her for running into him, annoyed to have to deal with her? She hated that she couldn’t tell.
“Thanks for saving me from eating shit.” She laughed to ease the awkward tension forming between them.
“No problem. Shall we?” He opened the door for her, and she stepped into the diner.