The blankets were thrown off of Natalie the next morning.
She shrieked, curling into a ball. But it was only Piper. "Rise and shine," the witch sang, "time to weave the day!" Then she grimaced. "That sounded so much better in my head."
Natalie sat up, rubbing her temples. "My head hurts. Any reason my head has started hurting so badly after taking those capsules you made me?"
Piper shrugged. "Um, maybe you are taking too many? I told you to take them sparingly. You do not need one every night."
The mind weaver stretched. "What happens when I run out of them and the nightmares come back?" She grinned a little, thinking of she and Peter's trip to Willow Haven, then felt a punch in the gut when she realized he had walked out on her last night, just before they were supposed to do another session.
"What is it?" Piper asked. "You look how you do when I trick you into eating raw fish."
"Nothing." She slipped out of her bed and continued to stretch on her way to her wardrobe, more so to distract herself. Too many thoughts were demanding her attention at once. It was not the best way to start the day.
"I'm not blind."
"Yeah, but maybe I am."
Piper flapped her arms and rolled her eyes. "What are you going on about now? Let's skip the 'my life sucks' poetry today, please."
"Peter Sheinfeld," Natalie almost wailed, flinging herself back to the bed, grabbing the covers and yanking them to her chin. "He kissed me, but it was obviously an accident, and I see the way he looks at me, but I do not know if it is me he sees. And... He walked out last night before our session. Just out of nowhere, like perhaps something more important came up!"
Piper smiled a little. "Get dressed, you sentimental creature."
After a little wrestling and threatening not to bring her a sandwich for lunch, Piper had finally managed to get Natalie out of bed. The mind weaver dressed and followed the witch through her apartment and down the stairs.
When she peeked under the slab, she saw all of her furniture in the office was put back in place, but with the walls so blue, it looked like a completely different space. Her spirits lifted. "You did all of this?"
Piper twirled around the room. Then she batted her lashes at Natalie. "Maybe a certain blue-eyed man helped me."
"Mr. Sheinfeld?" Natalie looked around. "Did he mention why he walked out on me last night?"
But Piper did not answer. Instead, she threw herself into Natalie's desk chair and kicked her boots up on the desk. "Let me just say that he and I have an understanding."
"Piper, thank you, but I did not exactly need your approval."
"Well, you do," she sang, "and trust me, that is a good thing."
"Where is he now, then?"
"How should I know? Work? Family? Errands?"
Natalie felt like someone had thrown the rug out from under her feet. "I told him we needed to meet up a lot more frequently... Damn," she hissed, now speaking more to herself, "I should have just taken more of his memories in Willow Haven."
Piper sat up in her seat. "You went to Willow Haven?"
"Yeah, sure I did." She lifted her chin. "And not for the reason you are thinking. I decided against it, for the time being." She watched Piper closely. The witch picked up the paper weight on the desk, shaped like a hunched back whale, and turned it over in her hands.
Natalie opened her mouth, not sure why, perhaps to talk about Coldton palace, the night they had dined and danced, the night she weaved the lord's unwanted memory. "Piper, I have a question."
"Yes?"
"If there was something you wanted to tell me, but couldn't, perhaps afraid it would hurt me... would you say it anyway? Maybe because it is not your place to keep it from me?"
There was a little smile on her friend's face as she traced the back of the resin whale. Natalie prompted for an answer. It took a few minutes, but then Piper looked at her. "Well, it depends. I would not keep it from you if all I was worried about was whether or not it would hurt you. I would only keep it from you to protect you. And leave fate with the rest."
A breath escaped Natalie. "Right."
"Why?" Piper pretended to look unconcerned. "Why would you ask that?"
Natalie had the answer she needed. What she kept from Piper was not for her protection, but to keep from hurting her. Now was the time. She needed to say it, but every time she took a breath to do so, nothing came out. Eventually Piper stood and came around the desk.
"You would not ask that if there wasn't something you were keeping from me."
"You might be right."
"Oh, I know I am." The witch cornered Natalie, literally. "What is it?"
Just before Natalie could take a breath to say it, the door opened, and her first client of the day came in. A woman, clutching her purse and looking afraid.
Piper stepped away from Natalie. "We aren't finished." She smiled politely at Natalie's client, and left.
***
Natalie's client left, no longer recalling what had actually happened the day her cat disappeared. The mind weaver leaned back in her seat, throwing her own shoes onto the desk like Piper had, and ran her hands down over her face. Easy though this session was, it did not snuff out all of her other worries.
She needed to sit Piper down and talk to her. What she knew could not be kept from her friend, especially now that she had practically demanded it out of the mind weaver. There was no way Piper would just forget it. Natalie had run out of time to stall. And then there was Peter. If he would not come to Natalie, she would have to chase him down. If he had changed his mind about this whole thing, then it was too late now. Now he had no choice.
For lunch, Piper showed with a sandwich as promised, and something else. It was a small bottle of foggy pink liquid. She sat it on the desk next to Natalie's roasted turkey and tomato sandwich. The mind weaver looked at the bottle.
"What is that?"
"It will help with the stress. I made it for you last night, but forgot to bring it with me this morning. If you drink it, drink it all in one sitting. Understand?"
Natalie uncapped it and sniffed. "Smells like pine needles. And also a little fruity."
"Yes, and it tastes even better." Piper chuckled. "Listen, I am sorry about cornering you earlier. Believe it or not, I was trying to be dramatic in a playful way."
"Well, now that you mention it." Natalie pushed her sandwich aside.
Piper shushed her. "Whatever it is you want to tell me, do it when you are ready. I should understand that better than anyone." She turned and stared at the painting on the wall. It was of Pemawick Cove's lighthouse. Natalie had fallen in love with it at a festival she had gone to in Winter Wells on a rare sunny, if not hot, day. Mesmerized by the texture, like the artist had used their thumb for most of it, and the brilliant colors in the ocean waves, she could not walk away without it. Piper knew the story. Natalie told her about it the night they had met.
"Anyway," Piper continued, breaking her gaze from the painting, "I had better get going. Your next client is due soon, and I have a few myself to meet with." She stood from her seat. "Enjoy the sandwich. There are diced pickles in it, too. I know how much you love pickles."
"Piper, I think now is the time to tell you."
From the door, the witch looked back.
Natalie smiled ruefully. "I do not like pickles."
***
Red wax dripped onto the envelope's seal, pressed shortly after with the mind weaver's official stamp. Natalie sat straight in her seat, holding the envelope under the lamp's light to look at it. Her chest swelled with pride as she took in the wax seal. Inside was a letter to Peter, asking for his return, if not demanding it. She had to rewrite it a few times before she was confident it did not sound desperate, romantic, or rude.
It had only been a day since she had seen him, or not, if he showed up at midnight, to perhaps try and make up for skipping out the night before. Would she answer the door?
She had no choice.
Slipping into her coat, she put on her hat, and opened the door, intending to walk to the post office and have them mail the letter to Peter, since she did not know his address. Just before she stepped outside, she heard a loud crash, and turned around. It had come from inside her office. A shadow passed over the room. Heart in her ears, she looked around frantically, until she noticed the painting. It had fallen off the wall. One side of the frame was cracked. She yelled, demanding who had done this.
"Who are you? Tell me what you want already!"
Her voice broke, and she slipped to the floor, burying her face in her hands. Peter chased someone he could never reach. Natalie knew why. What she did not know was if she truly chased someone. Or if she was simply being haunted.
And if so... why?