Ariel snapped her head back to the table with such force that she nearly gave herself whiplash. Next to her, Leroy let out a snort, his shoe bumping into hers. Taylor glanced at Ariel with a small, knowing smile.

"You could say they know her," Taylor said.

Ariel’s face flushed crimson as her hands instinctively reached for a nonexistent cup of coffee.

"What Taylor means is—" Leroy began, casting a meaningful look at the priestess.

"Oh, I forgot. She's quite well acquainted with the Innkeeper’s grandson," Miss Marlowe recalled, her full attention now fixed on Ariel.

Ariel clutched Leroy’s arm with an iron grip. At that precise moment, a waiter approached their table.

"The usual for everyone?" he asked, oblivious to the tension simmering around him.

"Perfect," Taylor replied, ignoring the daggers Ariel was directing at her.

With a nod and a wave, the young man departed, and an uneasy silence descended over the table. Mandy sat upright, her demeanor shifting to one of practiced civility as she turned to face Miss Marlowe.

"It was kind of you to stay for breakfast," Mandy began, her smile meticulously controlled.

The heiress tilted her head slightly, her smile as light and measured as Mandy's.

"Of course, why would I miss it?"

"Oh, it’s just that you must have better things to do than spend the morning with a paranormal team," Mandy responded, her smile unwavering.

Ariel inwardly smiled. It was a refreshing change not to be on the receiving end of Mandy’s sharp-tongued barbs.

"Perhaps," Ariel said, "but according to the festival rules, I’m not supposed to leave Evans-san’s side today, and I have no intention of breaking that."

Ariel reached for Leroy’s arm once more, but he pulled it away. Mandy's composure faltered just a fraction, an eyebrow arching in surprise.

"Even through our investigation? You think we’re chasing shadows."

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Miss Marlowe opened her mouth to retort but looked to Jasper instead.

"Actually, I don’t plan on entering the theater at all," Jasper interjected.

Jasper’s dark eyes shifted to Mandy.

"Miss Marlowe experienced some unusual occurrences last night and wants me to investigate. I’ll be bringing Max, and, by extension, Taylor. The rest of you will monitor the theater."

Ariel’s anger bubbled up inside her.

"Unusual occurrences? She doesn’t even believe in the paranormal."

Ariel’s gaze fixed intently on Jasper as she placed her hands firmly on the table.

"But Mr. Warner is your client—"

Jasper’s attention snapped to her, his tone firm.

"It’s only for a few hours, Ariel. There will be plenty of people at the theater to continue the investigation."

Ariel wanted to argue further, but the finality in Jasper’s voice left no room for dissent. Frustrated, she slumped back in her chair, while Mandy across the table looked equally defeated.

That Jasper.

Before Ariel could let her frustration reach boiling point, a cup of coffee was set in front of her. She sighed in relief.

Finally.

With a desperate eagerness to drain the coffee as if it might also drain her irritation, Ariel lifted the cup to her lips. As the faces of Jasper, Miss Marlowe, and Mandy—who had a particularly strained expression—disappeared behind the rim of her glass, Ariel took a deep gulp and nearly choked. The coffee was ice-cold. Coughing and sputtering, she attempted to wave off Leroy, who was administering unhelpful pats to her back.

"I'm—it's okay—just—"

"SOMETHING WRONG?" came Mandy’s voice, cutting through the commotion.

Ariel froze, her eyes drifting slowly to Mandy, whose pursed lips confirmed her suspicion.

Shoot.

"PERHAPS THIS WILL HELP IT ALL GO DOWN," came a new voice.

Three heavy platters were unceremoniously dropped on the table with a loud clatter. Mrs. Williams loomed near Ariel’s chair, her expression one of malicious delight.

"COURTESY OF THE WILLIAMS’S. ENJOY."

With a final clap, Mrs. Williams and her staff departed, leaving their table in a state of uneasy silence. The diners around them paused to watch the spectacle unfold, knowing full well the Williams’s penchant for vengeance.

Ariel swallowed hard, regaining her composure as she turned to glare at the nosy Inn guests. Soon, murmurs and the clatter of cutlery resumed, and the focus shifted back to the meal in front of her.

“This is all your fault, Kinsley,” Taylor snapped, holding up a charred, unidentifiable piece of meat with her fork.

A low growl emanated from beside Ariel.

“Uh…”

Leroy was struggling with a piece of lettuce from the nearest platter, his fork failing to penetrate it. Ariel’s face flushed with a mix of heat and cold. A gentle pat on her left shoulder made her look up to see John offering a bright, reassuring smile.

“This one looks just fine,” he said, as he served up the stone-cold and unrecognizable food (was that rice?), sending encouraging glances around the table.

No one moved to take their fork. Even Leroy, his stomach growling audibly, set his fork down and pushed his plate away.

“See, just fine,” John continued, lifting a shapeless lump to his mouth.

Across the table, Mandy covered her face with her sleeve in horror. Ariel couldn’t help but frown nervously.

“John…” she began, but he had already taken a hearty bite and was chewing with enthusiasm.