The days after the farmer's market blur together in a strange mix of normal and not‑normal.
Normal:
My lotions and creams were a hit. Grace nearly cried when we sold out of the lavender jars. Emily insisted we celebrate with milkshakes. We spent two evenings restocking supplies and refilling jars, the kitchen smelling like herbs and honey.
Not‑normal:
Liam told Emily and me, very firmly, not to go into the woods alone. And not to let Drake go either. He said it casually, like it was just a safety rule, but something in his voice made the hairs on my arms rise. Like he knew something I didn’t. Something he didn’t want to say out loud. I didn’t push. But I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
I barely slept last night. The crying woman came back, the one with black and red hair like mine.
