Adeline

"I'm going to kill him," Abby grumbles, storming into my office.

I raise an eyebrow, looking up from the reservation system on my computer. Leaning back in my chair, I push my glasses up my nose and wait for her to continue.

After a long week managing the inn, a little break wouldn't hurt. Abby has always been overdramatic, especially when it comes to him. It's amusing to watch her rage about Connor—her rival in business and, although she won't admit it, a man she has feelings for. The sexual tension between them is obvious to everyone except the two of them.

"Hello to you too, Abby," I grin as she collapses into the chair across from me.

"He's driving me insane! He swooped in and took the Parkway deal right out from under me for his stupid little company," she huffs, grabbing a piece of candy from the dish on my desk.

I stifle a laugh, knowing there's no point in trying to finish any more work until she's done venting. "I thought you didn't care about Parkway? Weren't you only going after it to mess with him?"

"Well, yeah," she says, as if that should be obvious. "But you know I hate losing." She folds her arms, pouting like a kid who just lost a game.

I chuckle, shaking my head as I rise from the desk to pour myself another cup of coffee. Running the inn is a full-time job, and the cooler weather means more guests coming into Hollowbrook for the Fall Festival and its famous ghost stories. Coffee is essential this time of year.

"So, what's your plan? I doubt he's just going to hand the deal over," I say, taking a sip of the pumpkin-flavored brew I've come to love.

"That's the thing—I'll have to skip out on some of the festival prep to deal with this mess," she admits, her voice growing annoyed. "But I'll be back in time for the festival, I promise."

I frown. The Hollowbrook Fall Festival is the highlight of the year for this town. My grandparents always used to say it's what kept the inn afloat during the slow months. People travel from all over to experience the haunted tours and the Sleepy Hollow-themed reenactments, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ghostly rider who supposedly haunts the woods.

"You're skipping out on the festival prep?" I ask, leaning against the counter with my coffee. "That's serious. Hollowbrook doesn't feel like fall without you running around making everything happen."

Abby sighs. "I know, I hate it, but I can't let Connor win. Again." She groans, rolling her eyes as if it's the greatest injustice. "I'll be back before the festival kicks off."

I smile. Abby's been a great friend, even though her obsession with beating Connor is sometimes more than a little dramatic. After making a name for herself in the city as a real estate developer, she moved back to help her aging parents but continues to split her time between here and her remote work. It's hard to imagine the festival running smoothly without her, but I trust she'll make it work.

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"And what about you?" Abby asks, changing the subject as she steals another candy. "How did your date with Bryon go?"

I grimace, sitting back down behind my desk. "It was... fine. He's nice, really nice, but there was no spark."

"Addy! You can't keep waiting around for some silly little spark. Don't you want to settle down, have kids, get married?" Her eyes soften with concern.

I shrug, trying not to let her words sting. "Of course, but I'm not going to settle. I know what I want, and I'm willing to wait for it."

"Addy..." She leans forward, placing a hand over mine. "You deserve to move on. You can't keep comparing everyone to Steven."

The mention of his name causes a lump to form in my throat. I look out the window, avoiding her gaze. It's been years since Steven left me for my sister, but the betrayal still haunts me. It's why I left the city and returned to Hollowbrook, taking over my grandparents' inn after they passed. This place has been my safe haven ever since, a quiet retreat where I can avoid the mess that is my personal life.

"I know," I say softly, smiling as I stand up. "But enough about that. Let's get out of here and grab dinner at the diner. I'm in the mood for some gossip."

Abby grins, jumping up from her chair. "Yes! I need a milkshake and one of Dan's cheeseburgers, ASAP."

*** *** ***

At the diner, the familiar smell of fries and burgers greets us as Susan approaches our table with a bright smile.

"Evening, girls. The usual?" she asks, placing menus down with practiced ease.

"You know it," Abby says, practically bouncing in her seat.

I scan the menu even though I don't need to, knowing exactly what I order. Then something catches my eye. "Wait... Apple pie crumble?" I gasp. "It's back?"

Susan chuckles. "It sure is, sweetheart. I saved you a slice. Knew you'd be in tonight."

My heart warms at the thought. Susan's apple pie crumble is a Hollowbrook legend, a staple at the inn ever since my grandpa used to take me there for a slice every Sunday. Abby and I go on his birthday every year to keep the tradition alive.

"So... back to Bryon," Abby says, eyeing me over her milkshake.

I sigh, dipping a fry into my own strawberry shake. "He's nice, but... all he talked about was his gallery. It was so boring. I didn't feel any connection."

Abby shrugs. "Maybe he was nervous?"

We both break into laughter, drawing curious glances from the other diners.

As the laughter dies down, I feel a familiar unease settle over me. I've tried to move on from Steven, but there's always been someone else haunting my dreams—Ethan Brooks. The bad boy cop who kissed me senseless one drunken night in this very town, before he disappeared for years.

"Enough about my love life," I say, hoping to change the subject. "Let's talk about the festival. What's the theme this year?"

"Sleepy Hollow," I answer, excitement bubbling up. "It's the 200th anniversary, so they're going all out with reenactments and spooky vibes."

Abby groans. "Ugh, not that old legend again."

I smile, knowing she doesn't believe in ghosts or anything supernatural. But Hollowbrook's haunted past has always fascinated me, and this festival feels like a chance to honor the town's history—and maybe confront my own.

"Oh god..." Abby's face goes pale. She lowers her voice, eyes darting over my shoulder. "You won't believe who just walked in..."

Before I can turn around, a familiar, deep voice makes my heart stop.

"Adeline?"

I freeze. I know that voice.

Ethan Brooks is standing right behind me.