sit at a booth in the back because there was a painting of constellations that Nana liked. She said an old boyfriend painted it for her.”
Harrison’s blue eyes widen, and he looks at me with concern. “That’s the café, to the T.”
“See! Told you.”
He slowly shakes his head. “But that was in Thorne Hill, Annie. Not Michigan.”
“No,” I insist. “I remember looking out the window and watching the waves.” I close my eyes again and get a flash of my childhood memory. Suddenly, the tall grass and sand shimmers away, being replaced by a street. I gasp and open my eyes.
“Are you okay?” Harrison’s brows furrow even more.
“Honestly…I don’t know,” I admit with a sigh. “Something weird is going on. I know it. Do you remember the name of the café?”
“No. I think it was in town, though. Definitely not near Lake Michigan.”
“I saw a café.” I jump up and hurry into my room, getting the folder James gave me from my suitcase. “Suzy’s Café,” I read, seeing the name on the list. “Ring a bell?”
Harrison shrugs. “Maybe? I don’t remember the name, but at least I remember the place correctly.”
I give him a pointed look and pull my laptop out of the little basket I keep it in next to the couch. Suzy’s Café has a website that hasn’t been updated in years, but it has one interior photo on the home page.
“That’s it,” Harrison says with certainty. “And there’s the horse you were talking about.” He points to the bottom corner of the computer screen. And holy shit, it is there.
Just like I remember it.
“I have been there.”
“Yeah,” Harrison goes on. “We went there a lot.”
I put the computer on the coffee table and heft back against the couch, shaking my head. “Do you believe in magic?”
“Magic?” Harrison echoes. “No. Why?”
“I think Aunt Estelle was a witch, and I think she tried to teach me how to do magic. I can’t remember her, but I keep getting flashes and feelings, I suppose you can call it. And my dreams aren’t really dreams.”
A few seconds tick by. Harrison inhales and leans forward. “It’s not happening again, is it?”
I know exactly what he’s talking about, and it instantly pisses me the fuck off. “It never happened in the first place, and that’s a fucking low blow.”
“Sorry,” he says, and I know he means it. “I’m worried, that’s all. Magic isn’t real, Annie. Come on.”
“And up until a few years ago, you would have said the same thing about vampires, and don’t even try to tell me they’re suffering from some sort of disease. What disease enables you to live forever, not get sick, heal quickly, and have to drink blood to survive?”
“I get it, and you know I agree with you. But if magic was real, wouldn’t more people be doing it?”
“I don’t think it’s something you can just pick and choose to do.” I motion to the Book of Shadows. “I found this in Aunt Estelle’s house. It’s a spell book.”
Harrison brings the book into his lap and leafs through it. “Indeed, it is.”
“Do you remember that from our childhood at all?”
“No. I’ve never seen this before.” He leans in. “That’s Aunt Estelle’s handwriting.”
“There are quite a few notes from her.”
Harrison puts the book back on the coffee table. “This doesn’t mean magic is real,” he says gently.
“I know. Contrary to what you might think, I’m not completely mental.”
“I don’t think you’re completely mental. Just slightly.” He smiles. “It’s odd, I’ll agree with you there. You have an annoying habit of remembering small details and bringing them up years later, so the fact that you can’t remember staying with Aunt Estelle, well, it’s weird.”
“Thanks.” I let out another sigh. Hunter jumps off the couch and goes to the front door, able to sense the pizza delivery driver before he’s even out of the car. Harrison stays for a while, and it’s nice hanging out with my brother. Mom makes sure to have family dinners a few times a month, but with the both of us working in the medical field, we don’t hold regular hours, and it’s not always easy to get everyone together at the same time.
I take Hunter for a run after Harrison leaves, still trying not to let myself get upset that Ethan never called. Did I misinterpret things that badly? I really thought we got along, at least on the phone. Talking to him came easily, and we both laughed almost as much as we