Page 96 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

“She looks fragile.”

“Definitely not used to seeing that.”

My eyes shot open, and I jolted upright in bed.

Ceri, Harriet, and Niamh all stood in my loft, staring at me with wide eyes, Ceri’s hand over her heart like I was the one who’d scared her.

The sun shone in through the open back, haloing them all in its buttery light.

“Does nobody knock in this town?” I murmured.

Niamh bit her bottom lip, a guilty look flashing across her face. “We did knock, but no one answered.”

“That should’ve been your first clue to walk away.” I looked next to me, the spot empty. Vine must’ve gone out to catch food.

“We wanted to apologize,” Ceri said, twisting her hands together, her round cheeks rosy as usual. “About the book.”

“You were right.” Niamh stepped forward. “We were looking at the story through the lens of romance, but we weren’t being critical about anything else.”

“It wasn’t really a happy ending for Merry,” Harriet added. “In fact, that ending makes me hate everyone in that village.”

“They were all cowards.” Ceri’s hands clenched. “It was two-faced of them. To pretend to be Merry’s friend and then just cut her out of their lives.”

Harriet and Niamh nodded along as Ceri spoke.

I rested against the headboard, body still weak. “Why are you all telling me this?”

It was nice that they’d stopped by, but I didn’t understand what they wanted from me, what they hoped to achieve with this visit.

“Because we want you to keep coming to the book club.” Niamh gave a small shrug. “And we think maybe you might need a friend right now?”

I sighed and crossed my arms. Word must’ve already spread about Nevan and me. Margaret, if I had to make a guess.

“We figured it out,” Niamh said quickly. She tipped her head to the side. “Well, Harriet did.”

Harriet shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly hard. Nevan’s been moping around for a few days, looking like a lost little puppy.”

That image did nothing for my already wounded heart. I’d done that to him.

Ceri stepped forward and sat on the edge of the bed. “What happened? It might make you feel better to talk about it.”

I eyed her. I hadn’t spoken with the blond woman that much, but she seemed so genuine, so eager to help. They all did.

I had Vine, but Vine was, well, a plant. It comforted me, but it didn’t understand how I felt.

“He said he loved me,” I finally admitted.

Niamh gasped, hand going to her heart. “How did that lead to you two breaking up?”

“Because I’m not right for him.” My hands curled into fists, sheet bunching in them.

“How can you think that?” Ceri patted my leg. “You’re literally perfect for each other.”

I blinked. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, you both love plants,” Harriet said.

Niamh nodded. “You have no idea how awful it was to have to talk to him about plants all the time—their medicinal properties, the reactions they might have if mixed with elements of other plants. Since you started dating, he hasn’t talked to us about it once.”