Heirloom Magic: Every Witch Way Read Free Page A

Breakfasts?” Mr. Bell guessed
when she didn’t immediately jump at the idea.
    Harper shook her
head. She had gotten in on a late flight and hadn’t had time yet to do much
more than land, change into her black dress in a bathroom stall at the airport,
and head straight for the funeral home. It was kind of strange how quickly her gran’s
funeral was being held, but apparently Gran had everything planned out exactly
how she’d wanted it and everything had been paid in advance.
    “Thank you,” she
mumbled numbly. Part of her just wanted to be alone, but it would be a long
walk hauling this bag with her.
    It was a short
drive, and neither of them said very much. Mr. Bell seemed to sense that she
wanted to be alone with her thoughts and thankfully didn’t feel the need to
fill the space with idle chit chat.
    “Here we are,” Mr.
Bell said quietly as he parked his blue sedan with the leather interior outside
the white Victorian style house. Harper stared up at it, suddenly terrified to
go inside. It would make everything too real. “Are you alright, Miss?” Mr. Bell
asked her, obviously sensing her hesitation.
    “I’m fine,” Harper
replied, not wanting him to see how upset she was.
    “Good, I will be
in touch in a few days to see how you’re settling in,” Mr. Bell promised as
Harper pulled the door open and stepped out onto the curb. Harper froze. She
hadn’t thought that far ahead, but she did have a life back in Chicago—a job at
one of the top software design firms in the city. She even had a two-year lease
on an over-priced apartment and a man at work who was maybe going to ask her
out one of these days… She couldn’t just pick up her entire life and move to
Alabama!
    Harper stared at
Mr. Bell blankly for a moment before she slowly nodded her head. There was no
way she was going to get into all of this right now. “Have a good night,” she
murmured instead as she shut the door and Mr. Bell drove away, leaving Harper
standing on the sidewalk, looking up at the old house she had loved so much as
a little girl.
    Pain at her gran’s
passing engulfed her. A few stray tears slid down her cheeks, and for a moment
she thought about turning around and leaving. She could get a room at one of
the Bed and Breakfasts and go back to Chicago in the morning. Harper took a
step back towards the road and then stopped. The house loomed before her like
an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while. Harper took a step forward, and then
another, she didn’t know why, but there was something that seemed to draw her
towards it.
    The same old board
on the front porch creaked as Harper climbed the steps, admiring the porch
swing that she had always loved so much as a child. It was startling to realize
that it was her swing now, the entire house was. Harper tried the door knob
before digging in the bag and found it open—the charm of small town living,
nobody locked their doors around here—not even the deceased, apparently.
    The house looked
exactly as it always had—nothing had changed. Harper walked into the spacious
foyer with the closet where she stopped and took off her coat. She bypassed the
twisty staircase and went around the side to the kitchen, flinging her bag up
onto the granite counter top. It landed with a heavy thud.
    Everything was
immaculate. Harper opened the cupboard to retrieve herself a glass and started
to run herself some water—until she remembered all the weirdos she’d met today.
She turned off the faucet and poked around the fridge instead. It was filled
with lots of containers with strange names. Harper frowned when she read one particularly
nasty-looking container labelled frog eyes. “I really hope that’s a code for
something else,” she muttered to herself as she grabbed a bottle of water and
made sure it didn’t say anything other than ‘Bottled Fresh from the Spring.’
    Harper guzzled
down the water, panting when she reached the bottom of the bottle. It felt like
she’d cried out at