Page 80 of Her Wicker Guardian

Shannon: Please call me.

Shannon: Rachel, seriously.

Shannon: I’m not coming over unless you tell me to, but CALL ME.

I call.

She answers before I hear a full ring. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“We’re okay.”

“Is Locke okay?”

I look across the yard. He’s weaving willow over the bear’s shoulder, but his hands aren’t moving with their usual certainty. He checks the same crossing twice before adjusting it.

“He’s angry.”

Shannon’s voice softens. “About the picture?”

“About the picture. About the axe story getting attached to it when there isn’t an axe in the picture. About somebody deciding what happened before they even met him.”

“Fair.”

I look toward the road. “How bad is it?”

Shannon pauses long enough that I brace for the answer. “It’s everywhere locally. My daughter sent it to me from one group chat. Somebody posted it in the Hollis Springs community group. Tom’s cousin texted him. There’s another version saying you built Locke on purpose.”

“I built him?”

“One version says you’re a witch now.”

I close my eyes. “Good to know.”

“There are competing theories.”

“I don’t want competing theories.”

“I don’t think they’re taking requests.”

Across the yard, Locke looks toward me. He can’t hear Shannon from where he’s standing, but he knows my face well enough to recognize when I’m hearing something I don’t like.

I turn slightly away from the teenagers. “Is my address on there?”

“No… not exactly.”

“Shannon.”

“Somebody said he’s out by Rachel Mercer’s place.”

My neck tightens. Hollis Springs isn’t big enough for that to stay vague for long, especially once people start asking each other which road I live on.

“Do you want us there?” Shannon asks.

My first impulse is yes. I want everybody I trust filling the yard until there’s no room left for strangers.

“Not everybody. I’m going to call Blair. Ask Tom to stay available, but first, I’ll ask Locke if he wants him here.”

“All right.”