The room felt hollow after Tina's glow flickered out, like the air had been scraped clean. Only the steady tick of the grandfather clock remained, louder than it had any right to be.
Rebecca wiped at her eyes, her heart still pounding. "What did she mean? What bargain? What circle?"
Millie's face went pale, her hands fussing with the cracked teacup as though the shards might offer distraction. Star said nothing, her pendant dim now, eyes fixed on the floor.
It was Thomas who finally broke the silence. His jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on Rebecca with a heaviness that bordered on guilt. "She shouldn't have told you. Not yet."
"Don't," Nathaniel said sharply, stepping closer. "You've hidden this long enough. She deserves the truth."
Rebecca's voice rose, trembling but firm. "Tell me! What did you all do to her?"
Thomas exhaled, shoulders slumping as if a burden too old to bear had finally cracked him. "We made a bargain, Rebecca. Long before you were born. The Hollow was bleeding us dry, taking lives in every family sickness, disappearances, madness. So we offered it something stronger. A bloodline. One line to carry the weight and keep the rest of the town safe."
Rebecca's stomach twisted. "And that was ours?
Thomas nodded, his eyes shining with grief. "Your grandmother. She stood in that circle, knowing what it meant. We thought we could control it, bind the shadows with her strength. But the Hollow is never satisfied. It took her deeper than we planned, bound her so tight we couldn't bring her back. The circle broke that night."
Millie's hands trembled as she set the shards of her cup aside. "And we've been patching holes ever since."
Rebecca's knees felt weak, and she gripped the counter for balance. "So you sacrificed her?"
"No!" Thomas's voice cracked, desperate. "She chose. She believed she could protect us. But choice or not, we let her go. And now" His gaze fell to her belly. "Now it wants you."
The shop fell silent again, only the faint hiss of shadows pressing at the windows reminding them the Hollow was still listening.
Nathaniel's voice was low, steady. "This time, it won't take her alone. Not if we build the circle again."
Rebecca's hand tightened over her stomach, Tina's words echoing in her mind: You must remember. You must choose.
Rebecca frowned arms crossed across her chest. "What did she mean I had to choose?"
The lavender scent lingered heavily, clinging to every shadowed corner of the shop. Rebecca found her hand in Nathaniel's, her skin tingling as though fire had been pressed into her veins.
Rebecca gasped "How did you do that and I didn't even feel it?"
Millie leaned forward on her counter, spectacles glinting in the lamplight. Her gaze swept over Rebecca, then Nathaniel, and finally the faint shimmer still glowing across their joined hands.
"So it's done," she said flatly, her voice carrying more weariness than triumph. "Edgeworth and Weatherman, bound at last. The Hollow will not take that lightly."
Thomas's jaw tightened, his eyes on Rebecca. "You don't even know what you've agreed to.
"I didn't know I had agreed to anything," Rebecca said, her voice shaking but steady.
Nathaniel's eyes softened as he looked at her, but he did not release her hand. "The bond is sealed. My strength is theirs now, and theirs is mine. Whatever comes, the Hollow cannot pull us apart."
Millie gave a sharp laugh, though it rang with old grief. "You speak as though that makes you safe. The Hollow never fears a chain it looks for the weak link. "But" She paused, her gaze shifting to Rebecca, her expression softening just a fraction. "Your grandmother would have been proud to see you make the choice she never had the chance to finish."
Star, silent until now, touched her pendant and nodded. "Then let the circle know it's begun. The Nine must gather, and the town must stand ready. The Hollow is already listening."
Rebecca exhaled, her grip tightening on Nathaniel's hand. "Then we'll meet it together. Whatever comes."
Millie straightened, smoothing her apron as though to steady herself. "So be it. The rest will feel the stir. But child she fixed Rebecca with a piercing look "you must remember, a binding is more than power. It's responsibility. You carry him now, and he carries you. If one falls, the other follows."
Rebecca nodded, the truth of it humming already in her bones. "I understand."
The lamps flickered once, a shadow passing quick across the glass. The Hollow stirred, testing the edges of its cage. But inside Millie's shop, the first circle had been called and for the first time in forty years, Hollows Edge held its breath with a fragile kind of hope.
Millie adjusted her spectacles and glanced toward the shop windows, where the faintest gray light had begun to push back the night. The lamps on the street outside looked pale now, struggling against dawn.
"It's near daylight," she said, her tone brisk but softened by concern. "The town will be waking soon, and you, child, need rest. You've been up all night, and the Hollow feeds quickest on the weary."
Rebecca blinked, suddenly aware of the heaviness in her limbs, the ache in her bones. Every breath felt thick, as though the weight of all she had endured pressed harder now that Millie had spoken it aloud.
Nathaniel's grip tightened gently on her hand. "She's right. You've carried enough for one night."
Millie gave a short nod, gathering the empty cups on her counter. "Go on, then. Find your strength while you still can. You'll need it soon enough."
Star touched Rebecca's shoulder as they turned toward the door, her pendant glinting faintly in the early light. "Come morning, the whole town will feel the change. But for now, rest. The Hollow won't find you in sleep not while the bond is fresh."
Rebecca managed a small, tired smile. "Rest," she echoed, though her mind whirled with Tina's words and the burning brand of the bond still pulsing in her veins.
As they stepped out into the soft breath of dawn, the shadows had retreated, hiding from the first light. But the Hollow's silence felt less like retreat and more like a pause waiting.
Rebecca felt her knees weaken, the fatigue of the long night pressing into her bones. Nathaniel's hand never left hers as he guided her toward the door. Star gave her a reassuring nod, pendant glinting faintly as she whispered, "We'll hold things here. Go on, dear. Sleep while you can."
Thomas's eyes followed her, troubled but unreadable, as if he carried words he couldn't yet speak. Millie only muttered, "Rest, child. You'll need it."
The brass bell over the shop door gave a soft chime as Nathaniel opened it, and together they stepped into the dawn breaking. The shadows clung to the edges of the street, but with dawn creeping over the rooftops, they shrank back, whispering like smoke dispersing into air.
Rebecca leaned into Nathaniel's steadiness as they walked the cobblestones toward her home. Her cardigan tugged tighter around her shoulders, not against the chill, but against the memory of Tina's voice, the glow of the binding, and Harry's name hanging like a storm cloud over her thoughts.
The first birds sang as they reached her steps. Nathaniel opened the door for her, his movements quiet, deliberate, protective. Inside, the house smelled faintly of lavender and coffee grounds, grounding her against the weight of everything she had seen that night.
"You should sleep," Nathaniel murmured, closing the door behind them.
Rebecca sank onto the couch, rubbing at her tired eyes. "Not yet. There's too much I don't understand. Not until you tell me about Alexander about Tina. About why the Hollow keeps showing me their faces."
Nathaniel hesitated, his expression shadowed with sadness. Then he crossed the room and lowered himself into the chair across from her, the dawn light touching his face, making him look at once ancient and impossibly human.
"Then you should hear it all," he said softly. "Before Harry Winston reappears."