When I pushed open the bakery door, the bell jingled to announce my return. Hazel and Nixie looked up from where they’d been huddled at the counter, their expressions a mix of relief and anxious anticipation.

“Finally!” Nixie exclaimed. “We were about to send a search party. Or at least a very strongly worded magical telegram.”

“How did it go?” Hazel asked, already moving to the kitchen where a kettle whistled softly.

I followed them into the kitchen and stopped short. Nixie had transformed our back wall into an elaborate conspiracy board. Red string connected newspaper clippings, hand-drawn symbols, and what appeared to be a crayon portrait of the skeleton wearing a chef’s hat. Everything was liberally dusted with glitter. Classic Nixie.

“What is that?” I asked, letting Crumb jump from my bag onto the counter, where he immediately began inspecting Nixie’s handiwork.

“Investigation headquarters!” Nixie declared proudly. “I call it ‘Murder Board: The Sparkle Edition.'”

“We don’t know for sure this was murder,” Hazel reminded her, handing me a steaming mug that released tendrils of fragrant steam.

Nixie waved away Hazel’s concern with a flick of her wrist. “Potato, shomato.”

Hazel rolled her eyes, then turned to me. “So? Did the marshal dismiss you immediately, or did he at least try to answer your questions?”

I sank into a chair, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “Actually, Dean was… different than I expected.”

Both witches froze, exchanging glances.

“Dean?” Nixie repeated, eyebrows shooting up. “We’re on a first-name basis with Mr. By-The-Book now?”

I felt my cheeks warm. “Marshal Maddox showed me building records. The wall where we found the skeleton wasn’t in the original plans. It was added later, without permits.”

“Well, that officially confirms what the contractor told us,” Hazel admitted, joining me at the table. “I guess that’s progress.”

“Dean’s been researching it too,” I continued. “And when my magic sparked, yes, literally sparked, right in front of him, he didn’t even blink. Just asked if it happened often, like he was asking about the weather.”

“That could mean anything,” Hazel cautioned, but her eyes betrayed her curiosity. “Maybe he thinks it’s marketing magic like everyone else in town seems to.”

“Yeah, but… Crumb also purred for him,” I added. “When has Crumb ever purred for a stranger?”

Nixie gasped dramatically. “Betrayal! Crumb, how could you?”

The cat, now grooming himself on the counter, didn’t bother to acknowledge the accusation.

“And I told him about the skeleton and the spellbook, and he just listened. He didn’t threaten to turn us in to the authorities or anything. Guys, I think we can trust him to help.”

Hazel’s face darkened. “You revealed the secrets after promising not to. That is not okay.”

Nixie snatched the slip of paper with Dean’s contact info from my fingers, examining it like it might be cursed. “Hazel’s right. A fire marshal who’s willing to investigate off the record? I don’t trust it.”

“This was not your decision to make alone,” Hazel said, her brow furrowed. “He could still shut us down if he wanted to. We need to be careful about how much we reveal. You’ve already told him far too much.”

“We should enchant him,” Nixie suggested, wiggling her fingers dramatically. “Just a tiny compliance spell. Or a truth serum in his coffee. I have a recipe that tastes like hazelnut creamer but makes you spill your deepest secrets.”

“Absolutely not,” Hazel said firmly. “Magic has consequences, especially when used on unwilling subjects. Have we learned nothing from what happened with the spellbook?”

“That’s different,” Nixie argued. “The spellbook wanted to be found. It practically exploded with joy when Bria touched it.”

“Joy that nearly burned down our bakery,” Hazel countered, voice rising. “We need to follow proper channels. Report what we find through official means.”

“Official means?” Nixie scoffed. “Like they’d believe us? ‘Excuse me, Mr. Sheriff, we found a magical book that makes our witch powers go haywire when we touch it.’ We’d be laughed out of town, or worse.”

My fingers traced the rim of my mug, feeling torn between Hazel’s careful pragmatism and Nixie’s bold instincts. “We already have reported it to someone official. Dean knows about the skeleton, and he’s fine with it.”

“Maybe so. But the last witch who owned this place ended up behind a wall,” Nixie continued, gesturing to the still-scorched bricks. Her voice softened. “Maybe she trusted the wrong people.”

“Or maybe using her magic recklessly is what got her killed,” Hazel shot back, then immediately looked stricken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

The kitchen fell silent, the weight of what might have happened to Tansy hanging heavy in the air.

I felt drawn to the wall where we’d found her skeleton, an invisible thread connecting me to the witch who’d come before. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being pulled down the same path, secrets, fire, and all.