Larkspur Hollow: Haunting at the Lighthouse

Chapter 2 - Harper

My mind has been racing with thoughts of Emmeline. Since I gave her that folder three days ago, she hasn't contacted me, which worries me since we talk daily. I was okay with giving her space to process everything and review all the documents, but three days and complete radio silence? Something is wrong, and I need to see if she is okay. I was able to keep my mind busy with the plans for Storm Watch Day, but it was tough not to phone or text her. It was worse not seeing her every night, either at the restaurant or at one of our homes. 

I pull up my Jeep in front of Moonlit Pages bookstore, the shop Emmeline bought with the money she inherited from her parents after they went missing and were declared deceased. The bookstore is located in the Historical district of Larkspur Hollow, where the charming stone shops look worn out and faded by the salty air. Above the shop is a creaky wooden sign that moves to and fro in the slight sea breeze, with the words Moonlit Pages painted on it with golden paint. The arched windows are created with stained glass at the top curve, and ordinary glass at the bottom so curious eyes can peek inside. The stained glass pictures mythological creatures and monsters from stories, giving readers a glimpse into what types of books they might find inside. Ivy covers the stone walls, and two iron lanterns hang on both sides of the heavy wooden door—a mysterious-looking place for a mysterious woman.

I push open the door, and the chiming bell introduces me to whoever is inside. I am a bit surprised to see how busy the place is. Usually, you will find two or three people inside, not more than ten. The bookstore can hardly accommodate twenty people, especially since Emmeline placed many shelves and plants here. Speaking of plants, I can see a few new ones already. Emmeline loves her plants. Her red hair and peachy skin are also easily mistaken for a plant. I am not even mentioning the vibrant and eclectic outfits that she likes to wear. 

I smile at some clients as I pass them to the counter. A few are in the Young Adult section, some in the Mystery, but most hover around the Fantasy and Romance section. Good to know. I might arrange something to attract romance and fantasy lovers, maybe a role-playing festival or a midnight market that looks as enchanting as a fairy forest. I will think of something. The more tourists we attract, the more the town's people will flourish. And happy locals make me happy. 

Emmeline is busy ringing up some books for an older gentleman when she spots me. A smile spreads across her face, making my soul take a deep breath to relax. She is okay. I can calm down now. I wait patiently for her to finish with the customer before I step closer to greet her. 

"Welcome to Moonlit Pages," she smiles. Her curly red hair is tied into a loose bun on her head. She looks happier than I thought she would. Will my presence and reason for my visit change that?

"Is everything alright?" I ask before I lose the nerve to do so. 

She frowns slightly, "Why wouldn't I be?"

I hate how she can bottle her emotions up. She knows her feelings will always be safe with me; there is no space in our friendship for secrets or pretending. 

"I haven't heard from you in three days, Em. You had me worried."

She shrugs, "I was pretty busy with the bookstore. The past three days, I went home after sunset."

Another customer walks up to the counter, and I quickly step out of the way to give her space. I keep myself busy with the bookmarks displayed on the edge of the mahogany counter. Everything has something to do with the stars or arcane magic. I don't know how she has been so invested in magical things; my whole life, I have never seen her delve into any magical practice except for the tarot cards. Her family was known for their psychic abilities and ability to talk to the dead. But to me, that is all a load of crap. There is no such thing as ghosts and spirits or being able to do magic and predict someone's future. It is all tricks to make people think you can, and in doing so, you make a few bucks to stay alive. People around town called her mother a witch, pushing her out of society and trying not to mix with the Greys too much. They were branded with rude names that I don't want to repeat. But I loved her more than anyone else. She just understood me, and I her.