Chapter 16

Claire grins.

I reciprocate her smile as if to say: Don’t worry. Everything is fine with the young unfamiliar customer in the backroom.

“He is going to love it,” Claire says to me. She twirls, spins around, dances, and disappears behind a doorway strung up with silvery-white beads.

I take this time to shift my gaze up to the mirror, nonchalantly. I do not see the young boy. Slowly, I turn around to glimpse the fifty percent off sale rack behind me: a box of tarot cards, Ouija board, and a hodgepodge of flavor-scented lead-free candles fill the shelves. A sheath of writing pens catches my eye.

“Do not miss out on those nice-looking writing pens,” Claire says. “They write smoothly and feel feathery between your fingers.”

I smile. “I’m tempted. But I’ll wait.”

Over the top of the shelf, I notice the adolescent boy staring my way, his face hidden under the bill of a baseball cap. He lurks in the shadows near Milestone County’s local artwork and picture frames.