The Past-Life Chronicles

4

It's Wednesday afternoon, and I've finished work early. It's sixty-five degrees outside, a pleasant autumn day, and I feel like some fresh air would do me good. I slip on my favorite pair of black and neon blue tennis shoes and leave the house, heading up the sidewalk. A block away around the corner is a coffee shop that has the best chocolate chip muffins.

The neighbors' houses are quiet as I pass. Golden sunlight radiates from the orange and red-colored leaves of the giant oaks that line our street. A breeze rustles them, and a few leaves float to my feet. Mom likes to do a Samhain ritual where she writes on a fallen leaf with charcoal all the bad habits and situations she wants to leave behind, then burns the leaves in the fire pit. Samhain (or Halloween, for all of you Muggles out there) is the witches' new year, when we set our goals and plan for the year to come.

The sun is warm on my back when I arrive at Cuppa Joe's. After crossing the small parking lot, I pull open the door. The café is full of the sounds and smells of brew. An older man relaxes in a chintz armchair by the front window, reading a book and sipping from a steaming to-go cup. The girls behind the counter look busy but friendly, wiping down equipment and restocking the little red stirring straws. One of them pops behind the register to greet me.

"A chocolate chip muffin, please," I request.

An enthusiastic voice behind me interrupts the transaction. "Willow?"

I turn. A newspaper lowers to reveal wild curls. Sitting at one of the bistro tables is Persephone. It's then when I inhale the scent of sandalwood, mingled with that of the brewing coffee. How had I not noticed?

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I like to stop in occasionally for the organic tea." She indicates the white ceramic mug sitting on a coaster. "Come sit with me."

The barista serves up my muffin and I pay. With my treat on a dish and a Styrofoam cup of tap water, I take a seat opposite Persephone. I unfold the paper napkin in my lap. "Is it your day off?"

"Yep." She lifts her mug to her mouth for a sip. "How 'bout you?"

"Done early." I poke apart the muffin with my fork.

We make small-talk while I snack and she drinks. When my plate holds nothing but crumbs, I give it back to the barista and recycle my napkin.

"So." Seph swirls the dregs of her empty mug. I wonder if she plans to read her tea leaves. "Have you given any more thought to what happened on Saturday?"

"Oh. Not a lot." I tuck my hair behind my ear. "Why? Has...um, Mason said anything?"

I still haven't replied to his email, or taken him up on his offer to call him. I haven't wanted to bother him. Really, I'm not one of those girls who's full of drama. Aside from the car-phobia thing, I'm pretty lowkey.

"I haven't spoken to him." I can't read Seph's expression, but she surveys me over the rim of her cup. "But I have a theory."

When she fails to continue, I prompt her with a light laugh. "Which is...?"

"I think what we stumbled upon was a past-life memory."

The sound of a coffee machine gurgles, a microwave behind the counter beeps, and someone's cellphone buzzes. I stare at Persephone, nonplussed. "What? Like, I was Queen Elizabeth or something?"

"Most of us were never queens. But you, Willow Raven, are an old soul. I've known it since you were small. And something's back there, in your soul's memory...something you haven't resolved."

My mouth feels chalky with the bitter aftertaste of semisweet chocolate. I take a sip of water to rinse it.

"Don't look at me like I'm crazy." She holds up a hand. "Two-thirds of the world's religions believe in reincarnation. Wiccans happen to be in the majority on this one."