Anne sighed and leaned a bit deeper into her chair.
The realization that, for the very first time in their lives, the three sisters wouldn’t be together for their birthday had been difficult to accept. But the week before the first snow hit the sidewalk, Anne had glanced into her cup and seen a full moon rising on the rim, a sign that their plans would be disrupted. And sure enough, the day that her sisters were set to travel, an unexpected storm had kept them back.
As Anne had predicted, when the first snowflake fluttered down and touched her upturned cheeks, she’d been standing onthe sidewalk alone instead of within the warm embrace of her sisters.
Once again, it seemed that Fate had other plans in mind for the Quigley sisters.
“Yes, but the time wasn’t right,” Anne said.
Since her ability to peer into the future had grown stronger, Anne had become more patient about allowing a thread of destiny to reveal where it might lead her. Where she once would have wrapped her wrist around the barest hint of a suggestion and tugged, Anne now let her fingers rest against the strings and allowed them to pull her along the path of fortune.
But that certainly didn’t mean she had to be exuberant about the unexpected turn of events.
Knowing that she and her sisters would come together again didn’t quite ease the sense of loneliness that crept up on her whenever she sat in the family parlor and the sight of the empty settee, still indented from years of Violet and Beatrix’s steady presence, caught her by surprise.
“Well, I commend your patience,” Katherine replied with a laugh. “But I’d like to see them both here sooner rather than later.”
Anne grinned then and met her friend’s gaze over her teacup, considering whether or not to share a secret.
“Whenever I pour cream into my morning tea, I see a bow coming together on the surface,” Anne finally said. “It grows stronger by the day.”
Katherine and Celeste’s smiles broadened as the underlying meaning of Anne’s words took shape: a reunion to come.
“Then we do have something to look forward to after all!” Katherine cried as she took a bite of the sugarplum scone that Peggy had placed closest to her on the tray.
“And you don’t think that there’s just the slightest chance Beatrix might be able to give us an advance copy of her newbook?” Celeste whispered. “We promise we wouldn’t share it with anyone, of course.”
Anne knew that, like everyone else who’d encountered her sister’s writing, Celeste was waiting with bated breath for the moment her latest story hit the shelves. After all, Beatrix was a word weaver, a witch who’s magic rested in spinning stories that ensnared the heart of readers and refused to let them go until the final page.
“If only,” Anne replied with a laugh. “Her publisher has all the copies under lock and key after someone tried to break in and take one. As you know, her writing is rather . . . compelling.”
Celeste nodded in agreement, though a look of disappointment still settled between her brows.
“It will be a consolation if Violet decides to bring that handsome husband of hers along,” Katherine said, beaming from ear to ear.
Celeste playfully batted Katherine on the shoulder, as if she couldn’t quite bring herself to reprimand her friend for a thought that had passed through her mind a time or two as well.
“I’ll leave you both to consider Emil’s finer qualities alone,” Anne said as she rose from the table and brushed the crumbs off her skirt. “I need to start my next set of rounds with the customers.”
A few of the witches sitting nearest to their table straightened in their seats. They tried to hide the fact that they’d overheard Anne’s last remark, but the way they played with the corners of their cloth napkins gave away their excitement.
“Promise us that you’ll take a moment for yourself later this evening,” Katherine said as she grasped Anne’s hand in her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You may have an iron will, but even metal will bend under enough pressure.”
“I promise,” Anne said as she gave her friend a kiss on the cheek before slipping into the quick and chaotic rhythm of the shop.
But in the swirl of carnations and caravans that rested at the bottom of her customers’ cups, Anne forgot to glance up from the future and take stock of what was beginning to emerge in the present.
Which was a shame, because if she had, Anne might have noticed the sensation of icy fingers tapping ever so gently along the base of her back, warning about troubles that were on the cusp of taking shape.
CHAPTER 2
A Train
Indicates that someone unexpected is about to arrive.
Beatrix Quigley had come to discover that being on a train did something strange to time.
As soon as her luggage was stowed away and the sound of the wheels grinding against the rails tangled with the scratches of her pen marking the paper, she shifted into a place where the moment seemed to stretch and shrink all at once.
