Karter flashed the truck lights and laid on the horn. The car slowed and pulled onto the shoulder.

I recognized the decal on the side of the vehicle. “It’s the Public Safety people! Pull over!”

We skidded to a stop on the low slope next to the road and I jumped out as a short, broad-shouldered woman exited the Public Safety vehicle and rushed over to me.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“No! Somebody attacked us in the theater!”

The woman’s expression turned stern. “Get in your vehicle and lock the doors.” As I climbed back in the truck with Karter, the woman got on the radio in her car.

“What is she doing?” Karter asked. “Is she calling the police?”

“I don’t know.”

A few minutes later, a car skidded to a stop behind us. Karter gripped the steering wheel and threw the truck in drive.

“Wait!” I yelled, recognizing the person exiting the car behind us. It was Dr. Grant. She rushed to my side of the truck and I rolled down the window.

“Dr. Grant!” I half screamed at her. “These guys tried to attack us at the movie theater!”

She glanced down the road, then reached for her walkie-talkie.

“Wait!” I opened the passenger door and got out.

“Briseis, what are you doing?” Karter asked.

“Just give me a second.” I steered Dr. Grant toward the back of the truck.

“Miss Greene, I need to call this in. You told the Public Safety officer you were attacked—”

“I know but wait a minute. Please.” A sudden rush of panic gripped me. If Dr. Grant called this in to the police, my parents would make us pack up and go back to Brooklyn, probably that same night. No amount of money or fresh air or chirping birds was enough to make them stay if they thought I was in danger. “Dr. Grant, please. If I tell my parents, they’ll make me leave, and I can’t do that.” I looked at Karter. I thought of Marie, of the garden, and even of the Heart.

“Miss Greene,” Dr. Grant began. I was prepared for her to tell me she didn’t have a choice, that she had to do her job. But she sighed. “My father was up at your place earlier?”

“Yes,” I said.

“And he told you what he does?”

“Sort of. He told me he was an alchemist like I’m supposed to know what that is. Mom thinks it means he’s a wizard.”

Dr. Grant bit down on a smile. “I think you’d have to ask him if you want an exact answer. He’s been studying alchemy since before I was born. It was the same way with my grandfather, and his grandfather’s mother before him. Generations of practice.” Dr. Grant stared off to the side before refocusing. “Imagine their surprise when I told them I wanted to be a social worker.” Dr. Grant shook her head, her face softening. “I’m sure he’ll be a regular at your place. He was when Circe and Selene ran it.”

“He won’t be a regular because I won’t be here if my parents find out what happened.” A knot stuck in my throat. “You don’t know what it was like for me before we came here. The way I’ve felt since we’ve been here? You can’t understand what it means to me. I have to stay.”

Dr. Grant tipped her head back and closed her eyes for a moment. “My only goal is to try and keep the people of this community safe. I haven’t always been able to do that.” Her face hardened again. “I feel like I’m failing you, Miss Greene.” She straightened up and took out her notepad. “Tell me everything you can about what happened, anything you can remember. I’ll look into it discreetly for now. I’ll let you know if I find anything, but if I do, I have to let your parents know.” She shook her head. “This goes against everything I’m trained to do, but if you leave . . .” She sighed. “You deserve to live here in peace. I’ll be damned if a bunch of magical assholes think they can push you around.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that the people who’d come after us might have been a part of this shadowy community of magical practitioners. Lucille, Dr. Grant’s father, and even Marie and Alec were cool, if not a little strange—but Dr. Grant clearly wasn’t talking about them.

“How worried should I be?” I asked. “You’re not telling me something. Do we need to put in an alarm or something?”

“Probably not a bad idea,” she said. “For now, give me any information you can about what happened at the theater.”

I ran down the details I could remember, but it had been dark and everything happened so fast. What I knew for sure was that there were four men who’d come into the theater in two pairs. They didn’t say anything, and I didn’t see if they got into a car afterward. The one who’d bum-rushed Karter was a white guy, stocky build, but I didn’t get a good look at the others. She flipped the notepad closed and walked me back to the truck, where she turned her attention to Karter.

“You’re Karter?” Dr. Grant asked him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Karter Redmond.”

“Are you new in town, too?”

Karter shifted in his seat. “I grew up here, ma’am.”

Dr. Grant questioned him and it turned out he’d noticed even less than I did. He’d seen a few of the men go into the theater and sit down but didn’t realize anything was off until I grabbed his arm. She tucked her notepad away and waved off the other Public Safety official. “I’ll tail you to your driveway and then I’ll be on my way.” She and I exchanged a nod of silent agreement and she walked back to her car.

“What do we do now?” Karter asked. “We’ll have to make an official statement, right?”

“Listen,” I said. “I need a favor that’s gonna sound ridiculous, but I need us to be on the same page.”

He eyed me suspiciously. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to tell anyone about what just happened. If my parents find out, I’ll be back in Brooklyn by tomorrow morning.”

Karter opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. He sat quietly for moment. “Aren’t you worried about who those people were? What they were tryna do? They attacked us. That guy tried to hem me up. You’re not worried about that?”

“I am. Dr. Grant is gonna handle it. I’ll tell my parents later, but if I tell them now, it’s over. I can’t go back to the way things were. I can’t go back to not having you as a friend.” The tears came in a rush. “The house, the garden, the way my parents have been feeling . . . ​it all makes me feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be. I need to stay. Please, Karter. I need you to understand.”