Page 8 of Big Witch Energy

“Oh, uh, sorry.” Caroline cleared her throat. “Ben, you remember Alice. And Riley, uh, this is Ben Hoult. Ben, Riley is your new neighbor at Shaddow House.”

“Nora let you move in? You must be family,” Ben marveled.

“She was,” Riley said, her pleasant smile never wavering.

Oh, shit, Riley’s aunt was dead.

Dammit, exhaustion brain.

In that moment, he felt a pang of loss for Nora Denton. She’d been an aloof neighbor, but not an unkind one. His mother, like most people on Starfall, had spent years trying to coax Nora into the island’s social circles—i.e., the Nana Grapevine, a grassroots social network of the island’s elderly ladies. Hell, Mom had even insisted there was some distant family connection, a great-great-great-grandmother who had married a Denton cousin or something.

While Nora was gracious, and thanked people sincerely for the Bundt cakes and the offers for coffee, she never reciprocated. She never invited people into the cavernous confines of Shaddow House. Ben’s mother had theorized that Nora didn’t have permission from her employers, the Shaddow family, to have guests in their home, with what the entire island population assumed was a hoard of valuable antiques collected during their world travels “being robber barons or what-have-you.” The Dentons had served as Stewards, caretakers to the Shaddows’ property for as long as anyone on Starfall could remember. If Nora had passed, Ben supposed that Riley had inherited the position.

The only relative Nora had, to Ben’s knowledge, was her sister, Ellen, who had broken family tradition and moved off-island the moment she turned eighteen. Maybe Riley was Ellen’s daughter? She had her aunt’s dark-gold hair and gray eyes.

Ben shook off his distraction. Man, it had been a long day. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “My own parents passed a few years ago, so I’m not updated on the island news.”

“It’s all right,” Riley assured him. “I didn’t meet her while she was alive, myself. Wait, Ben? The Ben? Oh, dang.” Riley cast a wide-eyed and guilty look at Caroline. “Well, I’ll just, um, go…that way. Far from this conversational awkwardness.”

“Real smooth,” Caroline muttered, smirking as Riley and Alice carted the glass pieces through the Shaddow gate. She turned her attention back to Ben. “Sorry if that was…weird. I wasn’t expecting to see you, obviously.”

“I can imagine. I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, either. I thought I would have time to adjust, I guess.”

“Adjust, right, because you’re going to be living here.” Caroline blinked at him. “Long-term. Again. Great.”

“So, uh, how have you been?” Ben said, rubbing at the back of his neck. He didn’t know what else to say. I’m sorry? I know we said we wouldn’t talk, but it feels like I failed you by not talking? I missed you? My life hasn’t turned out the way I hoped, and I suspect it’s the absence of you that was the root of it?

That was a reasonable amount of baggage to lay at someone’s feet after twenty years, right?

“Dad, there’s no internet!” Josh hollered from upstairs. “Mina, did you kill the internet on purpose?”

Ben’s head dropped toward his chest. Of course, his children would decide to pipe up in this exact moment.

“There is internet, Josh, but it’s unsecured Wi-Fi meant for the rental guests,” Ben called back.

“Ew,” Josh yelped. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that!”

Caroline snorted but managed to cover it with a cough. That was kind of her. He and his spawn probably didn’t deserve that.

“I have a technician coming to replace the system on Tuesday,” Ben yelled.

“What are we supposed to do until then?” Mina demanded.

“Read a book?” Ben suggested.

“Ew!” Josh cried again, sounding truly offended.

“I accept your suggestion,” Mina replied. “Particularly when laundry becomes an issue. You will wash your own smelly socks while I read.”

Caroline burst out laughing now. And Ben’s whole heart felt like it was going to a gooey caramel mush. He’d missed that sound so much, the music of it, the way she had dozens of different laughs, one for every occasion. Her whole face still lit up when she let any of them loose. That much hadn’t changed.

“So.” He jammed his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to touch her. He didn’t have the right to do that. He jerked his head toward the house. “Those are my kids’ disembodied voices.”

Caroline snickered. “I’m sure they’re charming when they’ve had some sleep and they haven’t been hauled across the country.”

“It will be an adjustment,” he agreed.

“I’m just gonna…follow my friends,” she said, jerking her head toward the front door of Shaddow House. He was struck with the bizarre urge to follow her, not to slake his lifelong curiosity about the house next door, but to keep this connection with Caroline. Seeing her again was like a balm to a wound he’d ignored for years: soothing, calm, comforting. He wasn’t sure he deserved it, but he wanted it, selfishly, all the same.

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