When Kirchel came into the bedroom, Erin was sitting on the window seat, watching a pair of grey squirrels chase each other up and down one of the pine trees in front of the house and trying to forget the image of two rows of dead faces staring back at her from the cabinet shelves.

“What did you find out?” she asked Kirchel, doing her best to look innocently curious.

“Not as much as I would have liked,” Kirchel replied, walking over to sit down on the edge of the bed. “I was talking to an old friend of mine. She has some experience with situations like yours—much more than I do.”

“And did she know anything about Wraith?”

“I told her everything I knew, and she had some ideas. She's going to do a little research and let me know if she can figure it out.”

“How long do you think it will take?”

Kirchel shrugged. “It depends on how long it takes her to find the right information. I said I would check back with her in a few days. I had hoped that she would know more right off hand, but it’s been a while since she’s come across something like this, and she wanted to check on a few things before giving me her opinion.” She sighed. “Now, I need to go spend a few hours on those infernal flowers for Mrs. Jenkins. The wedding's next week, and who knows what other demands and complications they'll come up with in the meantime? We’ve got to try to stay on top of things. Will you be all right if I leave you by yourself?”

“I think so,” Erin said. “I was wondering about calling home, though. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. And feel free to call the store if you need anything.” Kirchel stood up and started toward the door. “I’ll be back around five-thirty or six, okay?”

Erin waited until she heard Kirchel going downstairs and then left her bedroom and went to Kirchel’s. She walked over to the window and lifted the curtain slightly so that she could look out and watch the car going down the road toward the floral shop. Once she was sure Kirchel was gone, she sighed and sank down onto the edge of the bed.

She was a little relieved that Kirchel had gone back to work for the afternoon. She felt a bit nervous being alone due to her latest encounter with Wraith, but just now being with Kirchel wasn’t much more comfortable. And she wanted to be able to talk to her parents without Kirchel around to overhear the conversation.

She reached over to the bedside table and picked up the phone. She dialed her home number and listened while the phone rang, looking at a framed photograph on the table next to the telephone. It was a picture of Kirchel when she was a little girl, riding a horse with her father. Edward Marin—Kirchel’s father—was Erin’s great uncle, her grandmother’s oldest brother. He had dark hair, like Kirchel, and a square-jawed, kind-looking face. Erin thought he looked a little like her brother Derek.

The phone picked up on the fifth ring and a bright, childish voice said, “Hi! My name is Elizabeth Archer, but my friends call me Lizzy. What's your name?”

“Hi, Dizzy Lizzy,” Erin said with a laugh. Her youngest sister, Elizabeth, was six years old and loved to answer the telephone whenever she got a chance. “This is Erin.”

“Erin!” Elizabeth squealed excitedly. “Are you coming home yet? My ponies miss you. They say Sylvie doesn’t put their clothes on right.”

“Tell them I’m sorry, but I can’t come home yet. Maybe Sylvie will get better at doing their clothes. She just hasn’t had much practice.”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth sounded doubtful.

“She will,” Erin reassured her. “Listen, are Mom and Dad home?”

“Mommy and Sylvie went to the store. And Jason and Derek went to play at Kyle’s house. And I’m giving Sissy a bath.” Sissy was Elizabeth’s favorite toy—a pink plastic pony with rainbow-colored hair. “But Daddy’s outside. He’s giving a surgery.”

“Who’s he giving the surgery to?”

“The car. He said it had broncosaurus. It was coughing.”

“Broncosaurus? Do you mean bronchitis?”

“I don’t know,” Elizabeth said casually. “They’re kind of the same, right?”

“I guess,” Erin said, trying not to laugh. “Well, could you go tell Dad that I need to talk to him for a few minutes?”

“Okay.” Erin could hear the clatter of the phone being put down and what sounded like Elizabeth talking to one of her many pony toys as she left the room.

After a couple of minutes, she heard the phone being picked up again and her father’s voice at the other end. “Erin? Are you really there, or is Elizabeth making up imaginary telephone conversations again?”

Erin laughed. “I’m really here. I’m sorry to interrupt your operation.”

“Don’t worry about it. I need to wait for the patient to finish draining fluids anyway. So what’s up?”

Erin hesitated for a second or two and then said quietly, “I saw him again this morning.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Her father’s voice became more serious. “I see. Is everything all right?”

By 'everything,' she knew he meant her.

“More or less. I tripped and got a few scratches, but nothing bad.

“Good. Does Kirchel have any ideas about Mr. Wraith yet?”

“Not really. She called a friend today who might know something about him, though. She’s supposed to look some stuff up and let us know what she finds in a few days.”

“Hmm. Well, let’s hope she finds what we need.” He was silent for a minute and then continued shrewdly, “But I have a feeling you didn’t call just to tell me that. Is something else wrong?”

Erin smiled faintly. It was nice to have a father who was used to figuring out what people’s problems were whether they told him or not.

“Yeah, there is something else.” She paused briefly, not exactly sure what to tell him. “Dad, how much do you know about Kirchel?”

“Not that much. I’ve only met her a few times. Most of what I know about her is from what your mother has told me. She’s your mother’s cousin, and they grew up together. After she graduated from high school, Kirchel went to college in some foreign country—I’ve never heard exactly where. She studied botany and horticulture. And after she got done with school, she stayed and worked wherever it was—teaching, I think. But she came back once or twice a year to visit family. She was here for our wedding and came to visit us just after you were born. But I think that was the last time I saw her until she moved back and your mother and I went to see her a few years ago. That's about all I know. Is there something in particular you were wondering about?”

Erin didn’t answer right away, trying to phrase her words carefully. “Do you…do you really trust her?”

She could tell her question worried him. “What is it, Erin?” he asked, his voice soft and serious. “What’s happened?”

With a glance out the window to check for any sign of Kirchel, Erin began to tell him everything that had happened that day and what she had seen and heard in the locked room.

“I know I probably shouldn’t have gone in there,” she finished. “But she never told me not to, and I didn’t know I would find….” She trailed off.

There was a moment of silence—Erin’s father seemed to be considering what she had just told him.

“Dad,” Erin asked tentatively, “is Kirchel really a witch? She’s talked about it a few times, and I thought she was just joking. But now I really think she is one.”

“I suppose it depends on how you define the word ‘witch,’” her father said thoughtfully. “But not all witches are evil, you know?”

“Dad, she has a closet full of bones!”

“I have a skeleton in my office—a real one. I use it to explain things to patients.”

“I know, but you’re a doctor!” Erin said, feeling exasperated. “It makes sense for you to have bones sitting around.”

“Well, how do you know Kirchel doesn’t have just as logical an explanation? Maybe she uses those bones to help people—like I use mine. She makes quite a few medicinal things with those herbs she grows. Maybe she uses bones and feathers for the same thing.”

“How do you make medicine out of feathers?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea. But I expect Kirchel does. Is she really a witch? From what I know of her, yes, you could probably call her that. But she’s also one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. You want to know if I trust her? I do. I trusted her enough to let her take care of my daughter for two months, and that’s saying quite a lot.”

“Aunt Martha says she’s crazy....”

He sighed. “Martha says a lot of people are crazy. Your mother adores Kirchel—she always has. I don’t know about you, but I would trust your mother’s judgment over Aunt Martha’s any day. Still, no one’s forcing you to stay there. Like we told you before, whenever you want to come home, you just have to let us know.”

“I know,” Erin said, looking at the picture on the table again.

“So, did I answer your question?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” Her father gave a small laugh. “Because Elizabeth’s dying to talk to you some more. She and a very wet Sissy have been pulling on my arm for the last ten minutes.”

----------------------------------------

“Kind of a miserable day, isn’t it?” Sarah said, taking a moment to stretch and look out the window before starting on her ninth centerpiece.

Kirchel was performing a complicated maneuver with floral tape, wire, and some white lilies. “You can say that again,” she muttered, making a face and shaking her hand as she poked herself with the end of the wire yet again.

Erin looked up from the corsage she was taping together to follow Sarah’s gaze. Heavy raindrops were beating against the window, and the sky was full of dark storm clouds. As she watched, there was a bright fork of lightning, followed by the rumble of thunder. She gave a small sigh and turned back to the pink rose and baby's breath in her hand. Yes, it was a miserable day. She had been woken up just after five by the thunder, and it had kept up all morning. She, Kirchel, and Sarah had been in the back room of the shop working on flowers for the wedding for the last four hours, and they were still nowhere near being done. And earlier that morning, Kirchel had talked to her mysterious friend, who still couldn't tell them anything more about Wraith.

"I'm going to be highly amused if this storm keeps up and the reception is rained out," Kirchel said, glancing at the window. She had been in a bad mood all day.

"Kirchel, don't you have any sense of romance?" Sarah asked, sitting back down and pulling a vase and bucket full of flowers toward her.

"I have a sense of romance," Kirchel replied with a touch of irritation in her voice. "I just also happen to have a sense of practicality, and I know that spending eleven thousand dollars on flowers for a reception isn't at all practical."

"What does it matter if it's practical or not?" Sarah asked mildly. "We get paid either way, don't we?"

Kirchel's only response was to roll her eyes and get another lily to work into the bouquet she was making. Sarah caught Erin's eye and grinned.

“Don't mind her,” she said, nodding at Kirchel. “She gets like this every time we do flowers for a reception. I think she suffered a failed romance in her youth and is now forever embittered against weddings.”

Erin smiled weakly. She could tell that Sarah was joking, but she didn’t feel very amused. She looked over at her cousin. Kirchel hadn't said anything to Sarah’s remark, but she had paused very briefly in her work on the bride’s bouquet, and Erin thought she saw a muscle in her cheek tighten. She remembered Kirchel telling her never to call her 'Miss Marin' and wondered if Sarah’s teasing might have struck closer to the truth than she realized.