Nail in Her Coffin: The Devil's Witch Book 1

Chapter 3 | The McCasters

Last night, Cathy cooked parmesan chicken.

I had two helpings of the delicious meal.

The McCasters are much friendlier, and warmer, than I expected. They have a son around my age, well, around the age I would be if I hadn't died.

I'm not sure if I'm considered twenty-nine since I wasn't here living those years.

Mr. McCaster ended up convincing me to work in his own family's business. Maybe scaring kids will take my mind off the whole necromancer situation. Since it is early fall, their haunted hayride is still running.

Besides, I get paid a couple of dollars over minimum wage.

It won't be enough to pay off rent for an apartment, hopefully, Wally's is still hiring. They probably still have my old resume, it's not like it changed. If I can get hired there again, I should be set. The money will be tight though, but I'll manage.

In the meantime, I still must wait to have my name cleared, so I can be allowed to leave and move out.

Crystal, the McCasters' daughter, walks by me to pour herself a bowl of cereal on the counter.

We met last night after dinner. I think she was on a date with someone. Her hair is a darker shade of brown than her mother's and her eyes are hazel.

"You're up early," she mumbles.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep that well."

I couldn't stop thinking about being stuck in that coffin and the horrible feeling searing across my skin.

Crystal makes a pouting noise.

Her mother walks by us to answer someone at the door. Maybe her husband got back from town already. Wait, he only left ten minutes ago.

It must be someone else.

A deep voice speaks, "'Mom, I see your new guest has settled in. It's a shame y'all got caught in the middle of this. Patty's got her crew all over that graveyard! They brought some weres in to sniff out the perpetrator. They think it might be someone in our coven."

I look up from my toast to see a tall younger version of Mr. McCaster.

His dark brown eyes acknowledge me with a similar calculative gaze his sister gave me last night after dinner. Like his father, David, the man wears a plaid shirt, except, his is green and black.

It's weird, thinking I'm twenty-nine. Yet I feel no older than Crystal who is coincidentally the same age I would have been ten years ago.

"I'm William, but you can call me Will."

I stand up and shake his hand.

"Valerie," I say with an uneasy smile.

Will's tan hands are calloused. He probably works here on his family's land. I wonder if he lives here too?

"Well, looks like you finally met our entire family. Why don't y'all show her the the ski lift before people start showing up," Cathy tells Crystal and Will.

William nods his head and hands his mother a stack of mail, thankfully, no mice.

She takes the letters from him and flips through them tossing them all in the trash except for a big rectangular yellow envelope. The handwriting on the front of it is etched in fancy cursive. She sets it on the counter and William's relaxed expression turns hard when he sees the letter.

"Did they come over here again?" Will asks Mrs. McCaster in a lower voice.

Crystal looks between the two of them, worried.