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her breath.
    He stared out the windshield for a moment, then said “You better get inside before your mom puts her face through that window.”
    Willa turned. Her mom stood at the front window, curtain pulled back, watching. Even in the dark, her expression looked worried—not that it ever look differently lately. Willa sighed. “Okay.” She opened the door, wincing at the rush of cold air.
    Simon came around the Jeep and put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he offered.
    “I know.” And she did, but she was starting to wonder if he’d ever talk to her, or if she’d ever be able to stop asking. Solace’s words echoed in her mind: He won’t let it out, and you won’t let it go.
    On the porch, Willa lifted to her toes to kiss him. “Good night. I’ll miss you.”
    Simon sighed, wrapped his arms around her. “Miss you too!” He kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” he whispered.
    “Love you, too.”
    Reluctantly, Willa pulled away and went inside. Later, as she lay alone in bed, she searched her mind for a way to help Simon. When nothing came, she rolled over and closed her eyes. Maybe an answer will come in a dream, she thought hopefully.

Chapter 5
    Waning Crescent
    March—Present Day
    W illa hurried to the Twelve Acres Diner, late for her dinner shift. After changing into her uniform—a white polo shirt and short black skirt—she hustled to the server’s station to get her note pad. Two tables were already waiting.
    She greeted the first table, an older couple that came in every night at five o’clock sharp. “Hi, Pearl. Hi, Bob. How are you guys tonight?”
    Pearl, a wispy-haired woman in her late seventies with a kind face and several strings of fake pearls around her neck, said, “Oh, just fine, Willa. Same as always: old, tired, and hungry.”
    Willa smiled. “What can I get you tonight?”
    Pearl pointed to the menu and started talking, but Willa didn’t hear a word. Movement out the front window caught her eye; she looked up. Her gaze snagged on a dark figure across the street.
    A woman, huddled in a long black coat, hood pulled low over her face, her white-blonde hair spilling out onto her chest, stood watching the diner. Willa couldn’t see her eyes in the shadow of the hood, but she had no doubt the woman was looking at her.
    The triangular pendant tucked inside Willa’s shirt flared hot. She gasped, pressed a hand to the spot.
    “Willa? Willa, honey?” Pearl reached out to put her hand on Willa’s arm. Willa jerked away, disoriented and unsettled. Her eyes flashed to Pearl and then back to the window.
    The woman was gone.
    Order pad gripped in her hand, Willa ran from the table, bolted out into the cold night, ignoring Pearl’s and the hostess’s calls after her. Only a few weak streetlights lit the street, circles of yellow on the black asphalt. It smelled like snow and . . . smoke. Is that smoke? She jerked her head from side to side, scanning for the mysterious figure. Her necklace pulsed hot against her chest.
    Nothing.
    The hostess, Rosa, appeared at the door, yelling. “Willa! What the heck are you doing? It’s freezing, and you got tables. Get back in here.”
    Willa looked once more up, down, side to side. Her trembling hands were warm with magic, ready to act; but she saw nothing. The pendant of her necklace began to cool.
    Nothing.
    Reluctantly, she turned back, her heart racing, mind spinning. “Sorry,” she said as she stepped past Rosa. “Thought I saw someone.” Rosa shook her head and pulled the door closed.
    Willa returned to Pearl and Bob and took their orders, apologizing for her behavior. She looked out the window several times while she scribbled down their regular order of pot roast and fried chicken. They eyed her nervously but said nothing.
    After she placed the order with the kitchen, she ducked into the break room and dug her phone out of her purse to text Simon.
    I just saw Rachel outside the diner!
    Simon didn’t see the text