December 3, Tuesday

THE BELL above Coleman's Grocery jingled as I entered with my basket of eggs. The store smelled of cinnamon and pine, evidence of Coleman's early start on holiday decorating.

"There's our survivor," he called out, his weathered face creasing into a smile. "How are you feeling, Josephine?"

"Better." I set my basket on the counter. "Though I might be done exploring graveyards for a while."

"Can't blame you there." He began examining the eggs with his usual care. "Oh, Franny! Look who's here."

Franny Benson emerged from the baking aisle, her cart loaded with flour and sugar. When she saw me, her face clouded with emotion.

"Josephine." She abandoned her cart to clasp my hands. "I'm so sorry about what happened. Those girls..." She shook her head. "What they did goes against everything we believe in."

"It's not your fault," I said, squeezing her hands.

"But it is, in a way. Tilda and I allowed our own estrangement to drive a wedge between our families. We forgot that real magic isn't about power—it's about connection. About healing."

Coleman nodded sagely as he counted out my meager payment for the eggs. "Irving's always had its share of... unique traditions. But at our core, we're just folks trying to live good lives, raise our families."

"Some of us just do it with a few more crystals than others," Franny added with a small smile.

I tucked the money into my pocket. "Well, I'm not planning to write an exposé, if that's what you're worried about."

"Honestly, I thought you'd be halfway back to New York by now," Franny said, returning to her cart. "After what happened..."

"The Birmingham police asked me to stick around," I explained. "In case they have more questions about the cases."

"Cases?" Coleman's eyebrows rose. "Plural?"

"Wayne's murder, the vandalism, Rose's missing casket..." I shrugged. "They're trying to determine if they're connected."

"And I suppose Sawyer King has nothing to do with your willingness to stay?" Franny's tone was light, but her eyes were knowing.

Heat crept up my neck. "He's been... supportive."

"Mm-hmm." Coleman and Franny exchanged glances.

"What?" I demanded.

"Nothing." Franny began unloading her cart. "It's just nice to see Sawyer happy again. After Rose..." She trailed off, then said, "Well, the two of you… it's just nice."

I clutched my empty basket, wanting to believe her, but knowing that as long as the mystery of Rose's disappearance remained unsolved, Sawyer's mind and body would be restless.