Jem drops a box next to me, dust flying everywhere, dancing in the beams of light through her sunroom. She pushes back her pin-straight chestnut hair and huffs.

"Why did I agree to do this again, Ivy?" she asks as she opens another box with the box cutter.

I sneeze. Once, twice, and a third time. "I've got no idea, but you didn't tell me it would be this dusty." I pull my curly black hair back into a messy bun and wipe dust bunnies off my yoga pants. She asked me to help her look through a few boxes out of the garage. I'd forgotten just how many effing boxes we have out there. It's like a freaking storage facility.

"Sorry, I forgot about your allergies." Jem cringes. "I thought it would be a few boxes, not half of her garage."

"It's fine." I'll just be popping allergy pills like candy tonight, trying not to lose my voice as I sneeze. "What exactly are we looking for again? A box full of what?"

"Some old jewelry. My mom is frantic to find it. She thinks she left it in the garage rather than the storage at the shop." She shrugs.

Her mom is always frantic about something. Having to open her antique store on time. Having to get groceries or go to the next estate sale. She's eccentric, but she's always been there for Jem and me. When my mother abandoned me, she took me in, adopting me as her own. I'm forever in her debt for keeping me out of the foster care system and for teaching me that I am wanted and I'll always be loved.

"Well, I'll make more coffee and grab another box and we can get to work." I make the coffee and grab two boxes, dropping them off in the sunroom. I shuffle into the kitchen, grab us two mugs, doctoring it exactly as we each like it, black for me, two scoops of sugar for Jem.

The opening notes of an eighties rock ballad float through the house, and I settle myself into searching through these boxes, laughing with Jem as we sort through old photos, weird items, and some pretty incredible stuff.

"I don't even know where Mom finds all of this stuff."

"I know. It's like she's got a sixth sense about it." Jem laughs, holding up an old mirror. "Do you remember when she used to take us with her just to pull her wagons full of stuff for her?"

"How could I forget? My body hurts just thinking about it." I pause, smiling at the memories. "We got some cool stuff though. And my closet thanked me for it."

"Right? We were the best-dressed teens in the whole town."

"Yeah, we were." We talk back and forth about our adventures on weekends and holidays, the trip down memory lane helping us pass the time while we search for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Hours later, I push my arms above my head, stretching my sore back and rubbing at my neck. "Are you sure that the box she's looking for is here and not at the shop?" I ask, praying that's the case.

"She said it was here. Trust me, she already destroyed the storeroom looking for it."

"What's the deal with this jewelry? Is it worth a million dollars?" It's not like they need the money. Jem's family comes from old southern money and her mom's store has been featured all over as the best place to find what you're looking for.

"She just said it was important we find it in time."

"In time for what?"

"Who the hell knows." Jem closes up another box, blowing her bangs off of her forehead with an aggravated breath. "Want to call it a day? You know how Mom is, everything is urgent, and your allergies are obviously bad."

"Sure. Might as well." I sneeze again and try not to scratch at my chest. I need a shower to get all the dust off me.

We'll pick it up tomorrow. I'll bring doughnuts." Jem smiles.

"With the—"

"Yes, with the sprinkles." Jem laughs.

"You know me so well." I grab my giant purse and head for the door, waving as I head to my little studio apartment above the shop.

I throw my keys into the bowl Ann, Jem's mom, insisted belongs in this space before I toe off my shoes, grab a water bottle, and flop belly down on the couch. A few minutes into whatever happened to be on and I'm out like a light.

* * *

A loud metallic clang echoes outside my windows. I jump up and look through the water drops decorating the glass, the moonless night making it hard to see past the stairs leading up to my apartment. There's a shadow just a bit farther down the alley behind the shop. Metal screeches against metal again and I grab the gun I keep locked up by the door in case of emergencies. I tiptoe down the wooden steps outside my apartment and stay as hidden as possible as I creep closer to the potential robber.

Feet away, I stop, listening as they mutter under their breath, but I can’t make it out through the sound of the rain hitting the asphalt. I can't quite tell if it's a male or a female, but I don't hesitate. I raise my gun and point it squarely at them.

"I'm armed! Stop what you're doing and walk away!" Thankfully my voice doesn't shake, because the longer I stand here the more I'm sure my legs are going to give out.

The robber turns, and I see a flash of green eyes from the streetlights behind me. They hold their hands above their head and I bravely take a step forward, my heart pounding.

The potential robber lifts their hands, slowly reaching for the hood of their sweatshirt.

"Slowly." I inch forward another step.

The black hood falls back and I'm face-to-face with a young girl. Maybe fifteen or sixteen, I'd guess. She's got sharp features, her chin jutted forward with defiance, and her beauty is something women would pay millions for.

"Please don't hurt me," she whispers. "They said if I call the cops, they'll kill her." Her voice shakes along with her entire body.

I eye her up and down, seeing if I can spot any weapons. "Are you armed?"

"Only with a lock pick." She lowers her arms and shifts from side to side. "Please, they have my mother."

My heart softens despite my efforts to keep it hardened against this child in front of me. "Who does?"

"They do. They sent me here to get them something they want. I don't know who they are. They just showed up and took them." Her words come out in a desperate rush and I remind myself to stay cautious just a little longer.

"Who are these people?" I ask suspiciously. She's not giving me much to go on and I'm intrigued but skeptical. I reach out with my magic but don't feel any malice from the girl. Only desperation and sadness.

"I don't know. They broke into our house and have my mom and my little sister. They said they were after something powerful and that we're the only ones who can get it for them. I just want to keep them safe." Her shoulders hunch and she wipes at her face.

Can I trust her? Powerful men who need a teenager to find something? I can feel a bit of magic around her, but I can't tell if she's playing me or if she's just unaware of the fact that she has any power at all.

"Can you show me what they're looking for? Maybe I've seen it and I can get it for you and this can all be over." I try to keep my voice light and positive, but every action movie ever is playing in my head. The villains get what they want and they kill the family to tie up loose ends. If I give this girl what they want, does the same fate wait for her and her family?

She shoves her hand into her hoodie and then thrusts it at me, a crinkled picture pinched between her fingers. I smooth the paper out and see a necklace. One of the chunky ones that are so on trend lately. Large gems surrounded by diamonds, the largest in the middle and the rest around it, varying sizes. Ann always did have a good eye for the expensive pieces. In fact, she's known for it. Finding that one piece that people will go crazy for at an auction.

"I've never seen this necklace. I'm sorry."

The girl sniffles and my heart breaks. Who would put a child in this position? No one good, that's who.

"But my mom might know. She owns the shop."

A small smile shifts her features and I pray that I haven't just gotten her hopes up for nothing. Maybe Ann knows what the piece is, or can find it if she needs to.

"Do you want to come inside and get warm and I'll call her? It's late, but she's probably still awake."

The girl narrows her eyes, looking me over with caution. "You're not going to call the cops?"

"No, I'm not. I'm Ivy. What's your name?"

"Kay. My name's Kay." The girl's lips twitch into a small smile when she introduces herself, and again, I get a feeling of sadness from her. It's like she's not used to being happy.

"Nice to meet you, Kay." I step to the side and motion her forward. "Let's get you warmed up and see if we can sort this out."

We ascend the slippery wooden steps up to my apartment and I turn on the kettle for some tea. Maybe a bit of chamomile will calm our nerves. I set her cup on the table and keep an eye on her as she appraises my small but homey living space. I unlock my phone and dial Ann, hoping she's awake.

"Ivy? Is everything okay?" Her voice isn't groggy so I don't think I woke her up. Thank the goddess.

"Hey, Ann, yeah, I'm okay, just have a bit of a situation over here." I glance over at Kay. "Do you think you can come down here?"

"What's going on?" Her tone is sharp and I can hear rustling in the background.

"It's hard to explain and I don't want to say it over the phone. The shop is fine, I'm fine, but I need your expertise."

"Did someone break in? Did you call the cops?" More shuffling in the background and then the click of a lock.

"No, nothing like that. I'll tell you when you get here. Was that your car I just heard start?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in ten minutes. Make me a cup of tea. Something tells me I'm going to need it."

I sigh. "Yeah, you will. I'll see you in a bit."

I click off and turn to see Kay examining my small altar. Jem, Ann, and I are all practicing witches. From what Ann tells me, she and my mother grew up together in the same coven, which baffles me. My mother neglected me to a point that Ann took me in and raised me as her own. She got drunk on power and forgot about real-life responsibilities and obligations. Now Jem and I are in the same coven, doing what we can to keep nature happy, and occasionally freelancing for the police force.

"It's an altar." I smile warmly at her.

"An altar? Like for human sacrifice?" Her eyes go wide and her glance bounces from me to the door.

I laugh. "No, nothing like that. I'm not evil. I worship nature, not the devil." She still looks skeptical and I sigh. "Satan is actually not even a part of pagan religion. A lot of it is thanking the earth for allowing us to be a part of the circle of life and respecting that."

"So you believe in all that magical stuff? Like love potions and flying broomsticks?"

"I've got a broomstick but it's not getting me anywhere. And love potions aren't really a thing, but yes, I believe in magic. You don't?"

Kay frowns. "I don't know. If there was magic out there, I'd have gotten my mom and sister out of this already with the snap of a finger."

"It doesn't really work like that and I can tell you about it sometime if you're interested, but if you're not, no pressure. Ann should be here soon and I was just about to make a plate of cheese and crackers. Are you hungry? "

She shrugs her shoulder. "I could eat."

I'll bet she could. Her clothes are hanging off of her petite frame and her cheekbones might be so sharp due not to genetics but hunger.

A few minutes later I place the platter of gouda, grapes, and salami on the table just as my front door swings open. Kay startles, jumping up from her chair, and Ann takes in the scene with her shrewd gaze. She slips off her dripping rain jacket and hangs it up by the door, kicking off her shoes and walking toward us.

"I'm going to need two things, Ivy. That cup of tea and an explanation."