Page 9 of Secrets in Salem: Part One

Shaking my head, I walk over to my window then close and lock it. I even go so far as to triple check that it’s locked. Satisfied, I leave my room and hurry down the hallway until I reach the kitchen where Mom is standing at the oven, frying bacon. My belly growls, and I groan, sad I’m going to have to pass on bacon of all things. I need to hurry my ass up if I want to be in time to meet Adam.

"Mom, did you stick a letter to my door while I was asleep?" I ask as soon as I’m standing beside her, practically flapping the envelope in her face for her to see. I'm not sure why I don't show her the dagger. Maybe because I don't particularly want to hear a lecture about carrying deadly weapons around with me, however warranted it may be. In any case, I keep the dagger hidden in my bag and away from her creepily observant eyes.

She glances at my hand quickly then to my face before frowning and shaking her head. "No, honey. I've been busy in the garden all morning."

Bybusyshe basically means she’s been watching the weeds grow to jungle-like length, pondered doing something, then decided against the whole idea before losing interest entirely.

"Are you sure?" I push, dropping my hand to watch her carefully.

She switches the stove off before turning and looking at me with a tilted head. "Yes, Willow. I'm sure. Are you okay?"

Well, if Mom didn't do it... where the hell did the dagger come from, and who's the author of the letter?

A chill runs down my spine, but I stave off the shudder my body desperately wants to make. Clearing my throat, I stuff the letter into my cardigan pocket while wiping the concern and confusion off my face. Faking a smile like a pro, I answer, "Yeah. I'm fine, Mom. I don't think I had enough sleep last night, is all."

She nods slowly, still watching me intently. I hate it when she does that. She always sees right through me. Twenty-five, and I’m still getting the mom look. Fucking A.

"Really, Mom. I'm fine. Just sleep-deprived and going insane. Nothing a nap won't fix later." I offer her a bigger grin, hoping she buys it and doesn't see the panic growing inside me. If Mom didn't leave me the letter, then someone was in my room while I slept last night. Someone got by the locked front door Mom always makes sure is secure, snuck into my room, and pierced my door with a sharp fuckingknife.

Or... they climbed through my window. I know I closed it and locked it before showering, so how could that have been possible? It wasn’t even open before I went to bed, so it must have happened when I was sleeping. What the hell? This isn't making sense.

Realizing Mom is still watching, I renew my smile and tell her, "Alright, I'm going to go help Adam with this documentary stuff. I'll see you later. Have a good day. Make good choices. Don’t burn the bacon."

I don't bother waiting for a reply, the smell of burning bacon wafting in the air as I turn and briskly walk out of the house with a thundering heartbeat, a fluttering pulse, and a letter burning a hole in my pocket.

I'll have to read it as soon as I'm at the café.

Chapter 6

Willow

The sun isshining bright today, not a cloud in sight. There's a breeze in the air that always accompanies Spooky Season, the leaves dancing to their own melody as they fall from trees. They end up littering the roads in a beautiful mish mash of oranges, browns, and reds, some lingering like they’re hanging on until the very last moment to fall.

Inhaling the crisp air as I hurry down the sidewalk, I hope it brings me some clarity and comfort. It kind of works, too, my heart slowing down gradually and my pulse thumping to a normal pace. However, the horror that someone managed to sneak into my house undetected sets my nerves on edge. I just don’t understand how they would have gotten inside. Mom makes sure everything is locked due to her paranoid nature. Unless it’smebeing as paranoid as her and my crazy ass really didn’t lock it... No. No, I did. Iknowit.

But why would anyone want to sneak into my bedroom and leave me a letter? I need to know what the hell the thing says. Morbid curiosity is getting the better of me. Damn it. My pace quickens, renewed energy pushing me faster toward the café where I told Adam I’d meet him. I’m totally going to be late. Guess coffee is on me this morning.

I'm walking like a woman on a mission when the sweetest voice graces my eardrums and I melt like ice cream under the sun.

"Willow Tree!" Molly yells from her perch on the steps to her front door.

I laugh as I turn to face the house, grinning over at the beautiful little redhead who hurries to stand and wave like a maniac. With the speed I’d been walking, I didn't even realize I'd already reached Cassie's house.

"Miss Molly Moon! How are you feeling today? Max said you were sick," I ask, unlatching the fence and walking up the narrow pathway that leads to their front door. I pause and ask, "Please tell me Lola is locked away."

Her tinkling laugh squeezes at my heart, and I grin at the sweet girl that has me wrapped around her pinky finger. Max and Molly are the bright sparks in my life, and I love them like they're my own. I owe Cassie so much for allowing me to be a part of their lives. Helping her raise them is the biggest accomplishment of my life thus far. It comes as a close second to teaching Molly how to whip and nae nae.

"She's locked in the kitchen. You're safe!" she assures, motioning me closer with childlike excitement.

Lola is a Neapolitan mastiff. She's huge, slobbery, and will do just about anything to pin me to the ground just to show me love. That love comes in the form of the most disgusting kisses I've ever had from a dog. She wasn't supposed to be a giant dog that drools for days, but Cassie was bested by the previous owner.

What was advertised as a sweet and small pitbull puppy, only with looser skin, turned out to be the beast that is our Little Lolita. Instead of the small dog that would only grow to be the size of a common house dog, Lola turned out to be the giant softie that Cassie couldn't bear to part with. The kids love her, so Lola stayed. Only, Lola likes to pounce, so making sure she's locked away when someone comes to the door is a necessity.

Safe with the knowledge I won't get smothered with saliva, I start walking again, picking up my pace until I'm running over to the girl who owns a piece of my heart. Without pause, I scoop her up in my arms like I've always done, even though she's seven years old now. I don’t hesitate to smother her face with kisses she readily accepts, her beautiful melodic laughter ringing in my ear.

Once I've thoroughly attacked her, I move my face away and place her gently on the ground. Dropping my ass to the step outside the front door, Molly follows suit. "I'm better today. Mom thinks it was one of those twenty-four-hour sickness things. I threw up a few times, but I feel normal today."

"Gross. I hope you don't pass on your germs to me." I wrinkle my nose at her, earning a grin. "Did your brother sneak you some candy from his adventures last night?"

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