about the craft and the religion. And I’ve practiced every day. But I can’t find a thing written about the charmlings. They really are a well-kept secret, even in the witch world. Also, I don’t mean to rush you, but we need to get this thing going.”
I turned to her. “What thing?”
“The biz. Our business. Our livelihood. Oh! And I’ve come up with the perfect name.” Before I could stop her, because the biz wouldn’t be happening, she grabbed a stack of index cards off the nightstand and resettled herself on the bed. After working to cross her legs like a pretzel, she shuffled like we were practicing for Vegas. “Are you ready?”
Absolutely not. Wondering if she’d be able to unpretzel her legs when the time came, I set my hands on my hips. “I’m not sure.” How could I tell her about what was coming? What might be coming? Hell, who knew how real those dreams had been or what they’d meant. Certainly not me.
Oblivious to the thoughts churning in my head—some psychic she was—she giggled. “Imagine this on our business cards.” She turned over a card. Bibbidi Bobbidi Sleuths was written in thick black Sharpie.
“No.” I fought a grin because it did fit her to a tee.
“Okay, no worries. There’s more where that came from.”
“I can hardly wait.”
She rummaged through the stack and held up another. DefiNette Investigations.
“Absolutely not.”
“Hmm.” She pulled one from the middle. “This is the one. I know it.” She flipped it over. ESPI Investigations.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Get it? ESP and PI together? No? Okay, hold on.” She searched the deck frantically, brought out another card and held it to her chest. “Ready?”
“I’m breathless with anticipation.”
She flipped it over. Charmed Investigations.
“No.”
“No?” Her grin fell away.
Don’t be a dick, Deph. “No, but closer,” I encouraged.
“Wait! One more!” Fanning out the deck across the bed, fingers dancing, she searched for just the right card. She plucked one up and held it to her chest again. “Okay, I really like this one, but I’ll understand if you don’t—”
“Annette—”
“I was just warming you up with the others.” She turned the card over and read slowly. “Breadcrumbs, Inc.” She waited. Let it sink in. “What do you think?”
I thought it was perfect. A sad smile played across my lips as a garden of infinite possibilities blossomed inside me. Unfortunately, it would never happen. Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from admitting, “I kind of love it.” I also couldn’t stop disappointment from lacing my voice.
But she didn’t seem to pick up on it. “I knew it!”
“But why?”
“Because it’s catchy. And it’s like we follow the trail of—”
“No, why the business? Why now?”
“Because, unlike you, I am not a bazillionaire.”
I’d supposedly inherited a fortune from Ruthie. A lot of good it did me. “Are you broke?”
“Monetarily or emotionally?” Nette asked.
Alarmed, I walked back to the bed. “I can give—”
“No!” She held up her hand. “I would never just take money from you. I want to earn it. I want our business to work. And I don’t want any handouts. Although, I wouldn’t say no to a Brazilian. It’s been, like, six months.”
“Annette, you quit your job out of the blue and moved from Arizona to Massachusetts. You’ve done tons of research that will come in handy if we ever do open a business.”
“If?”
“You’ve helped watch over me for six months. My giving you money would be payment for services rendered, not charity.”
“There can’t be an if. There is nothing iffy about our futures.”
“Annette—”
“So, when do we start? My pizzaz. Your powers.”
My powers. The ones I couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—use. Not anymore. I turned back to the window.
Outside, brilliant fall colors covered Salem in bright oranges and golds. Green was still the dominant hue, but it wouldn’t be long before Salem looked afire.
“Dephne,” Annette prompted.
I had to be honest with her. Or make her believe I was being honest. She hadn’t seen what I saw. Felt the fear. She didn’t know what was waiting for me in the dark. What could sense my powers every time I used them. Feeling bad, but not bad enough to share the truth, I sighed softly and turned to face her. There was only one way out of this. “Annette, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I lost my powers.”
Blinking at me in disbelief, she got off the bed. Well, tried anyway. For, like, ten minutes. Groaning, she fought with her legs. When she finally uncrossed them, she glared at me. “Why did