“No. Just out shopping,” Alice replied. A half smile held back any emotions she felt in that moment.

“Oh,” was the only word the bakery employee could produce. A befuddled expression crossed her face. “Well, it looks fantastic.”

“Thank you,” Alice replied before leaving.

She peered into her bag, while grabbing the door, and collided with a man trying to enter the bakery. Their bodies spun around in the entryway.

“I’m sorry,” Alice offered. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No worries,” he assured her before continuing inside the bakery.

Alice steadied herself and stepped outside. The sight of a red knit hat covering blonde hair was unmistakable. She only caught a glimpse before it disappeared into a silver luxury car across the busy street. Her face was no longer full of giddy glee, but terror.

Alice held her breath. Her eyes widened, and her body tensed. The world slowed. Every emotion from the past three months came rushing back in a blurring display of anxiety and loneliness and heartache.It can’t be.It can’t be. How did she find me?

Alice rushed in between the parked cars facing thesidewalk. Her progress was impeded by the crisscrossing traffic going down the street. She paused, not wanting to meet a car head on. She had her opportunity and took it. The bag of baked goods flapped in the air as she ran across the street.

The silver car headed away from the town center. Alice arrived to the other side of the street and continued her pursuit. She wove in and out of the crowd. Many gave confused glances as she ran after the car.

Disable the car.You have to stop it. They can’t know you’re here. She raised her hand to the air, thumb and middle finger poised to produce the necessary component for her arcane powers. Her better judgement prevented her from putting on a magical display in the middle of the crowded square. Alice watched as the car sped away.

She squatted down, touching her hands to her shoulders. She buried her face in her arms. Her hat shielded her from the outside world.How did Sam find me?The name raced through her mind. Her breathing intensified in rhythmic gasps of air. She felt trapped in her self-contained bubble, trying to shut off the outside world for what felt like an eternity. She tapped her shoulders in rapid, alternating succession.

Ten… nine… eight… seven… It’s only a red hat, she thought as her mind raced.Six… five… There are lots of blonde people with red hats… Four… three… It’s okay… Two… one… It’s not Sam. It wasn’t Sam.She slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were bloodshot. A wet trail of sadness descended her face. She regained control of her breathing.

“Are you okay?” An older gentleman stopped to help Alice.

“I’m fine.” Alice wiped the tears with her black polyester sleeve. “I’m fine. I thought I saw a ghost from the past.”

He chuckled, offering his hand to help her up. “A witch afraid of a ghost?”

Alice gave a small laugh. She took his hand and stood up. “It does sound silly, doesn’t it?”

“I love the costume,” he tried to cheer her up.

“It’s not a costume, but how—” Alice’s voice trailed off. Shewanted to defend her fashion tastes, but couldn’t muster the strength in that moment. “Thanks.”

“Well, keep an eye out for those ghosts, and try to avoid them,” he said, walking away.

Alice stood for a moment to gather her composure. She picked up her bag of goodies. She checked off in the distance, trying to find any sign of the silver car. It was gone. She tilted her head, defeated.

“I should have drove,” Alice muttered as her shoulders slumped. She picked up her bag of goodies and continued her journey.

As Alice approached,the doors of Raskin’s Neighborhood Market opened. The blast of air inside the entryway attempted to knock off her hat, if not for her quick reaction to hold it in place. Happy hour activity was abundant at the store. Shoppers gathered their items before heading home for the day. Alice pulled her hat down over her eyes and slipped down an aisle to avoid any further unwanted attention.

She weaved in and out, avoiding eye contact with anyone who gave an odd stare at her appearance. Her winding twists and turns resulted in her appearing in the wine section. She stopped. The dark green hues mesmerized Alice as they glistened under the store lights. Her eyes soaked in the kaleidoscope of label colors. The brightly colored foils enveloped the corks hidden inside the bottle stems.

She grazed her fingers over the bottles, tracing their shapes as she lingered past. She longed to have her own wine brand on the aisle shelves. To be accepted by the public as a winemaker and not hidden away in clandestine clubs. She remembered her first big wineorder.

Patrons enjoyingthe night’s revelry filled the smoky, dimly lit room. Soft jazz music played from musical instruments floating on a stage. Arcane invisible hands guided the instruments toward the next notes. Alice sat at the bar counter, taking in the atmosphere. She adjusted her form fitting, black dress as it rode up her backside. She snatched up a glass of wine sitting on the counter and took a drink. Her face contorted and shivered from the bitter taste washing over her tongue. She gave a final “blah” before shoving the glass back across the bar counter.

A petite woman with blonde beehive hair approached a bartender from behind the bar. The bartender, dressed in a white shirt and tartan style vest, scooped ice from a tray and filled three glasses in front of him.

“Is this her?” she asked. She waved her hand around in a grand gesture before pointing toward Alice with her lit cigarette, like a conductor’s wand guiding his attention.

The bartender finished filling the glasses and nodded. The woman continued on to Alice waiting at the end of the bar.

“The name’s Esmerelda Honeydew, but most people call me Ez,” she introduced herself. Her eyes focused on the wineglass in front of her and then on Alice’s purple hair. “Love the hair.”