A Sinful Trap (Three Sinful Wishes 2)

Mr. Olyphant guffawed.

“When you’re done, can you make sure they get to the kitchen? I’m sure Ava has something ready for them to celebrate our first official attic excursion.” Hopefully that would give her a few minutes of privacy with the ringleader.

“You should sell tickets,” Mr. Olyphant said as he started down. “At least advertise the history of this place. Combine a haunting with a good roof and all that pretty new furniture, and you won’t have an empty room all year.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

Will surprised her by moving to follow them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

His lips twitched. “I thought you wanted us in the kitchen.”

“That’s it?” Bailey crossed her arms. “What is it about me, Will? Can you at least tell me that before you go?”

His smile disappeared. “What do you mean?”

“I made a wish, exactly like Dani and Kaya did. I saw the grandmother of all spiders twice in this very attic, and both times she tried to eat my face off.”

He winced sympathetically. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

She wasn’t done. “You told Dani beautiful stories and carved her a kachina doll. You burned sage in my attic with my guests, but the second I get here, you’re leaving?” She tried to keep her voice from breaking. “I thought you’d have the answer.”

“What answer?”

“The answer about why my great adventure isn’t falling in love or winning the lottery so I can finally, finally, have something to call my own. Why it appears to be about releasing people who don’t want to be tied down by me. Because that’s not anything I haven’t done before!”

Her words whipped around the attic before fading away, instantly filling her with remorse. She was a horrible person, shouting at her best friend’s grandfather when he didn’t deserve it. None of this was his fault.

“I’m so sorry. It’s been a long day,” she whispered, shifting on her bare feet in the middle of the attic, her fists clenching and unclenching on her skirt while fat tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. “You can go if you want to. I’ll be fine.”

“I like that you talk a lot,” he said abruptly.

“You what?” She swallowed. “I mean, thank you?”

Will took a cautious step closer, as if he were approaching a wounded animal. “I like the bright and loud about you. Your clothes. Your hair. Your voice when you sing, according to Kaya. It’s who you are, and I enjoy it. Most people do, I think. But even though you like to pretend that it is, it’s not all that you are. The people who matter can see the hummingbird behind the Hano clown.”

“Stop. I’m very susceptible to flattery right now,” she joked weakly. Clown did not sound like a compliment.

His expression was too compassionate for her to be offended. “The hummingbird is quiet but shines just as brightly. Your kindness. Your loyalty. They shine. Even if you weren’t so important to Kaya, I would still know you had something special to give. A hummingbird always does. It travels between two worlds, doing good for other people, bringing rain to help things grow, but having no time for herself. Though they may long to love her, she flies too fast to notice. Too fast to be truly seen. Which is sad, since I imagine love is the one thing she truly wants.”

Bailey wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, nodding. “You’re good. This is a good talk and I can see why Dani has a crush on you. I don’t understand the two worlds part, but the rest was spot on.”

“You’ll understand when you need to.” Will raised his hands in apology. “Now I am leaving, but it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to tell you a story, or that I’m not carving you something special. It’s because I came here to find out what they were trying to say, so I could help you. But it turns out they only wanted to talk to the innkeeper.”

Bailey froze. “Who?”

“The spirits.”

An icy chill finger-crawled its way up her spine as she slowly turned her head. She gasped softly when she saw the two little girls looking right at her from a gloomy corner of the cluttered space.

“Really?” she said in disbelief. “There’s only so much a person can take in one day, you know.”

She might have fainted for a minute. When she opened her eyes again, the girls were standing over her, frowning.

“She’s bleeding,” the one with braids said.

“It’s not that bad,” the short-haired girl assured her. “Not like the time I fell off the roof back home. There was so much blood that time, remember? You passed out when you saw the bone sticking out.”

Bailey grimaced at that graphic, then sat up and glanced around to get her bearings. She couldn’t see through their bodies, and though the attic was hers, it looked clean and recently finished. She was going to go out on a limb and say she was unconscious. Probably dead. “This attic was trying to kill me.”