Page 19 of Howl Will I Know

I leave the cottage just after ten with my notebook in my bag and no particular destination beyond town. The morning is cool enough for a jacket, and fallen leaves have collected along Briar End Lane in copper and gold drifts.

I immediately notice that Hewit’s truck is gone. I tell myself it’s only because the empty space beside his cottage is easy to miss, but I’m a little disappointed I won’t be seeing him today.

The walk into town takes less than fifteen minutes. By the time I reach the Crooked Mile, Screaming Woods is fully awake. Shop doors are propped open, someone is setting out pumpkins beneath a striped awning, and a woman with antlers is arguing cheerfully with a delivery driver over a crate of pears. Across the street, a small green child is being dragged away from a puddle by a father with wings.

It’s all strange enough that I should probably still be staring, but I’m starting to understand the rhythm of it. Nobody is pausing to explain themselves. The monsters are simply people buying groceries, opening shops, walking dogs, wrangling children, and complaining about parking.

I stop outside Lucky Bean. Melinda spots me through the window and points dramatically toward the counter.

I shake my head, and she points harder.

I sigh and go inside. “I’m not staying,” I tell her.

“That’s what people say before coffee.”

“I had coffee.”

“Was it good coffee?”

I hesitate.

“Exactly.” Melinda’s expression becomes smug as she turns toward the machine.

I lean against the counter. “Do you bully everyone into repeat business?”

“Only the ones I like.”

“That’s surprisingly honest.”

“Small-town survival strategy.”

Her quills shift slightly as she reaches for a cup. I have no idea whether that’s intentional or simply what they do when she moves. I’m still learning what counts as polite curiosity here.

“What’s your plan today?” she asks.

“Explore. Buy groceries. Find a store that sells a screwdriver because my curtain rail has given up on life.”

“Hardware store is two streets over. But you should visit the bookshop first.”

I frown. “Why?”

“Because you look like a bookshop person.”

“What does a bookshop person look like?”

Melinda slides a latte across the counter. “You packed four boxes marked books and one marked clothes.” She grins. “I saw them in your car the other day.”

“Right. For a second, I thought the town had developed some kind of psychic surveillance network.”

“It has.” Melinda pauses, then bursts out laughing at my expression. “I’m kidding.”

“Are you?”

“No. Go to The Spellbound Shelf.” She points through the window toward Witchhazel Way. “Alice owns it with Gordy.” She taps the side of my cup. “Tell Alice I sent you.”

The Spellbound Shelf sits halfway down Witchhazel Way between Hearth & Hollow and a narrow storefront displaying maps in its windows. The sign above the door is hand-painted, curling gold letters against dark blue, with tiny stars worked into the border.

A brass bell chimes when I step inside.