Chapter 1
Petals blew down the winding, cobblestone street. Spring was more than welcome after a cold winter, and with it, rain, new growth, and brisk, sharp air—the kind that, when breathed in, woke up the senses.
Worn lettering on a wooden signpost, directing her left, right, and up a steep hill, didn’t help her become less lost. It made her more confused. She’d never heard these names: Baker’s Row, Market Street, Townsend Lane.
She had a map of the village.
None of the street names matched.
Coming to the countryside from a bustling city, she’d had a notion that it would be easier to navigate. Fewer people and fewer buildings equated to effortless navigation. Or so she thought.
Whenever she believed she’d found her way, she’d become wholly flabbergasted on where to go next. The sidewalks seemed to shift when she wasn’t looking. Her lack of breakfast this morning must have been messing with her head. But she swore, staring across the quiet road, that she’d already passed that small candle shop across the street.
Yellow brick with dark orange accents. A weathervane in the shape of a hopping rabbit attached to its dark green eaves spun wildly.
She didn’t feel any wind.
The smell of floral perfume teased her nose pleasantly as a woman walked past her. Grey, curly hair and a pale cotton blouse paired with an ankle-length skirt rustling in the slight breeze. The only person she’d seen in a long while.
“Are you lost, my dear?”
Nina let out a breath of relief. Finally, her salvation. And it came in the form of a tiny, wrinkled woman with a beautiful smile and expressive brown eyes.
“I am.” Nina bowed slightly, so relieved that the propriety her mother had instilled in her escaped. “Could you give me directions to the library in town?”
She needn’t be specific. The quaint village of Wisteria didn’t have many amenities. Brick weathered with age, a love for vibrant, abundant plants hanging above doorways and awnings. Wisteria’s rich history seeped into every sidewalk and cracked road.
Since moving into her small apartment in the village’s heart last week, she’d happily embraced the silence and remoteness the village offered. So used to the bustle of city life, she desperately needed the reprieve. That was why she’d taken this job, which cut her pay significantly.
“You’re close,” the woman told her.
“Oh! Am I? Please, if you’d be so kind as to point me in the right direction.”
She focused intently as the nice woman gave her detailed guidance on how to reach the library.
“Thank you,” Nina said earnestly. “It was so close. I didn’t know.”
“I’ve never met someone who managed to get lost here.” The woman laughed heartily.
Ouch.
“You must be on your way elsewhere. I’m sorry for stopping you.”
“It’s no matter. You’ve given me a good story to tell around Meadow Table tonight.”
Ah, the only restaurant in town. She hadn’t visited, but she knew it was where most locals flocked after working hours.
She’d be the spectacle there tonight, then, in spirit.
Stunning.
Nina smiled. Her lips twitched at the corners. She reined in her temper. It had been a long morning, and the ache in her legs from walking didn’t help her patience. This woman seemed genuinely kind and did help her tremendously. The last thing she wanted to do was lash out at such a nice person.
“Thank you again,” Nina said. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I must get going. I’m already late.”
“Are you the woman who moved here last Friday?”
Word travels fast in a small village.
“I am.”
Nina found her hand in a tight hold, soft palm against hers. The woman’s brown eyes lit up as she said, “I’m so pleased to meet you. We’ve been waiting ages for someone to take over the library.”
“The job posting had been up for over a year.”
“Nobody wants to move to such a small village. All the educated folks would rather stay in the city.”
Nina smiled warmly and shook the wrinkly hand holding hers. “I cannot say I share their feelings on the matter. I find it charming here.”
“That it is.” The woman retook her hand. “My name is Isolde.”
“Nina.”
“You should come to Meadow Table this evening, Nina. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the village. A lovely girl like yourself will be the talk.”
“Thank you. If I can get settled into the library at a reasonable hour, I’ll see you then.”
“Would you like me to walk you the rest of the way, my dear? My television can wait for me.” Isolde lifted her purse. The woman must be referring to the movie store Nina had glimpsed while leaving the small train station last Friday morning.
“That’s okay. I can find my way now.”
“If you’re sure.”
She was lost again.
As she wandered down a narrow street with residences hugging the thin sliver of sidewalk, she began to feel hopeless. How long had it been? Hours had gone by; she swore it. But every time she blinked, it was as if she’d only taken a few steps.
Wisteria had been Nina’s ticket to a real life, away from her unfulfilling work as an indexer in the city.
Well, so much for seizing her bright future.
She couldn’t even find her way through a village with a population of less than two hundred people.
Stopping with a huff, she glanced around.
Nobody.
The only person she’d seen had been Isolde. That just wasn’t possible. Wisteria might be quaint, but its inhabitants were sure to be bustling around the downtown section of the village. But as she spun and took in her surroundings with growing panic, there was not a soul in sight.
Across the street, a candle shop stole her blearing focus. Ferns grew above an awning over the oak door and hung down, kissing the shiny wood. The weathervane on its painted eaves spun and spun, mocking her.
She turned and ran.
If she did this long enough, she’d make it somewhere else. Right? Maybe she’d break whatever reality-shifting bubble that she’d gotten herself stuck in.
She pushed herself until sweat glued the soft fabric of her pink blouse to her back, and her breath came in burning pants.
Stopping, she placed her hands on her knees. After huffing for a while, she slowly raised her gaze, hoping to see new buildings. Then, she’d laugh at herself for being a superstitious fool, make it to the library, albeit late, and apologize to Mrs. Galvan for making her wait for hours to hand over the key to the building.
But of course, across the narrow cobblestone road, her eyes fixed on a familiar building.
“No!” she screeched. “This can’t be happening!”
The candle shop. A sign hung over its door, nearly lost in the fernery. She’d thought it had been a candle, but focusing on it, she realized it was a decal of a teacup on a porcelain plate, with smoke rising from its rim. Hand-drawn in thick white paint, the words Endless Brew took up the rest of the sign, eye-catching.
How did she miss it?
“You!” She pointed at the tea shop. “Yes, you! You’ve messed with the wrong woman!”
She’d never had a nemesis before, but this, Endless Brew, had just become it. Awareness that she had most definitely lost her mind settled, but knowing that didn’t quell her temper. She might be fighting with a building, but that didn’t mean she’d lose. She would bash every brick into dust if she needed to.
“You’re doing this to me,” she shouted as she began to stomp across the road. “Aren’t you!?”
Her shrill, aren’t you, coincided with the door of the shop opening. A man holding a hefty-looking box stepped down the two short steps. His boots smacked the white pavers with a small, happy-go-lucky hop. The act didn’t match his aesthetic.
Black everything. From his jacket to his boots. Except for his hair. Dyed white. She’d never believe somebody had been born with snow-coloured hair like that. His piercings seized her body’s functions: two in his ears.
Her mother’s voice rang in her head, lecturing her on tattoos and body jewellery and what such things did for social standing. She disagreed with her mother’s claims, but that didn’t mean panicked thoughts weren’t worming their way into her head.
A punk! A rogue! A criminal!
She froze, forgetting her mission to bash the Endless Brew to dust. She should have been running, but couldn’t get her legs to move. Standing in the middle of the street, her chest rising raggedly, sweat beading from her brow and down her flushed cheeks, she must have made for a crazed sight.
His eyes found her, stopping in his tracks with the box held against his chest. Pupils the colour of a lake in spring. Light grey-blue and warm.
“Hey!” He shouted.
She ducked instinctually and cursed under her breath.
With nowhere to go, she resigned herself to standing hunched over, ready to flee and hide at a moment’s notice.
“Oh no...” He sighed, setting the box on a small glass table near the shop’s front door. He smiled at her. “You’re one of those, huh?”
His voice held a softness that soothed her ears. Her previous judgments were slowly being erased. She felt herself calming slightly while under his warm attention. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t wary.
This tea shop had just accosted her, and then spat out a man in a leather jacket. She wouldn’t let herself be fooled. This could be another trick.
He smiled wider at her. “If you come—”
The door to the shop opened. “Quinn!” A woman stuck her head out, gaze narrowing on the man in leather. “You’re supposed to be mopping the floors. Don’t think you can get out of it by pretending to do work.”
“Pretending?” Quinn scoffed at her. “If you must know, Naggy, I’m helping a customer.” He gestured to Nina.
The woman’s sour mood shifted instantly. Stepping outside, she took Nina in. The woman’s pin-straight, sleek black hair reached her upper back. A frilly pink apron tied around her waist clashed with the plaid skirt and matching vest she wore.
A school uniform?
But this wasn’t a teenager staring at her. In her early twenties, at a guess.
Cosplay then.
“What’s wrong with her?” the woman asked Quinn.
Quinn frowned. “She’s a mushy.”
A what? No. She’s a, about to go mad and take a hammer to this tea shop. All she wanted to do was make it to her first day as the village’s new librarian. Something told her that the ship had sailed.
“What should we do?” the woman asked Quinn.
They were treating Nina as if she weren’t there. Fine with her, she’d stay rooted to this spot, and hopefully, after starvation hit, she’d forget the insanity that was occurring around her. Yes, such a lovely plan.
Her stomach rumbled.
She should’ve eaten breakfast.
“Kai isn’t here?” Quinn asked, a deepening frown on his face, as the woman came to stand beside him. She shook her head.
“Crap.” He smacked his forehead. A sigh, then, he grumbled, “We’ll need to deal with this.”
“No!” The woman whimpered and stomped her left foot on the paver. Her Mary Jane-style chunky heels were pristine, with not a speck to mar their gloss. “I hate mushies. There’s got to be somebody else who...”
They smiled at each other. Concluding something at the same time. They looked at the shop and shouted simultaneously, “Lyle!”
