Fiona's eyes flicked to a corner of the shop, deeper in shadow than the rest. "It's a mirror," she said, lowering her voice. "It came into my possession by accident. I believe it's awake."

I looked at the dark corner, where I could just make out an ornate frame. It was beautiful. The carvings on the frame were intricate and flowing like tree roots around a tree.

"How can a mirror be awake?" I asked, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Fiona closed the book with a thud and put it to one side. "There are items that have their own history, their own power. This mirror is like a portal, but its location and purpose are unknown to me. That worries me."

"A portal?" I shivered at the thought.

"Yes." Fiona stood up and gestured for me to follow her. As we approached the object, I could feel a strange pull, like gravity changed around it and the earth was tipping towards it.

"It's beautiful," I said. The mirror glowed as if reflecting moonlight on water, even in the dim light.

Fiona nodded. "But it's dangerous. Look closely and you'll see shadows where they shouldn't be."

I looked around the shop at all the items. Every thing took on a new meaning and felt a sense of dread.

"Can't you just get rid of it?" It seemed like the obvious solution.

She grimaced. "I've tried. I find it back in the shop's corner whenever I leave it somewhere else."

"Tell me what you want me to do." I had only just found out I could see energy between plants. How was I to manage something strange with antiques?

Fiona reached out and touched the frame of the mirror. "You have a connection to the earth. It's strong and pure. You make things grow and live. The mirror needs energy. The purity of your energy might calm it or even cleanse it."

She stepped back from the mirror and gestured for me to come closer. "Do you want to try?"

"No." It was the only answer I could come up with in my alarm. I was worried about the way she would respond.

Fiona laughed, "I like you."

We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and drinking tea. Fiona and I discussed everything from her collection of antiques to the history of Llyncroft, with Fiona's cool demeanour thawing as the hours passed.

When I left her shop, the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, and the sky was turning pink and gold.

Walking down the high street, I sensed a change in the air. Day had turned to night, but I felt a tension that hadn't been there before. People who had previously ignored me now turned their heads as I passed, their whispers carrying on the breeze.

"Have you heard about the death at Willow Grove?"

"I heard it was murder!"

"The new girl found him, you know, May Hartwell's granddaughter."

My heart pounded as their words washed over me. The news about the death had spread. My arrival in Llyncroft was no longer just a point of mild curiosity. It was now associated with a death. It was one way to make an impact. I guess.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, I sped up, hurrying back to Willow Grove.

I turned the corner and walked straight into someone. My shopping bags fell from my hands, and apples and a loaf of bread spilled out onto the pavement.

"Easy there," said a deep voice. I looked up into a pair of piercing blue eyes. Captain Wolfhart.

I blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

Captain Wolfharts's stern face broke into a smile. "No harm done." He bent down to help me pick up the groceries, moving quickly and efficiently.

"I didn't think I'd see you here," I said.

He met my gaze as he handed back my shopping bags. "And why's that?"

I shrugged. "Well, you seemed busy yesterday."

He laughed, a surprisingly warm sound. "Just doing my job, Miss Hartwell."

I shivered at the way he said my name. It was like dark chocolate, smooth and rich, with something dark and intoxicating underneath.

"You can call me Evie," I said, hoping to break the formality between us.

"Alright, Evie, call me Gethin" he said. "How are you finding Llyncroft?"

It surprised me. It was such a normal thing to say. So different from the conversation we'd had at the crime scene.

"I'm coping," I said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "It's a lot to take in."

Gethin nodded. "Llyncroft can be different."

"Tell me about it," I said.

Gethin looked at me, his icy blue eyes intense and contemplative.

"You know, the people in this village, they can be a bit wary of newcomers," he said carefully.

I laughed. "You're telling me. I feel like I've been under a microscope since I arrived."

He nodded. "I'm sure it doesn't help that you're in the middle of a murder investigation."

"Understatement of the year," I muttered, my heart racing at the memory of finding the body.

Gethin frowned, looking at me with concern. Handing me a card with his phone details on. "I just wanted to say, if you need someone to talk to, or if you're feeling overwhelmed, I'm here."

His sincerity surprised me. I hadn't seen this side of him before. He was usually quite stern and serious.

"Thank you, Gethin," I said. "I appreciate it."

He gave me a small nod and stepped back. "Just remember," he said, his voice low and intense. "You're not alone here."

He cleared his throat. "I should go. I've got work to do."

I nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Gethin."

He looked surprised at my use of his first name, but he smiled back. "Take care, Evie."

With Gethin's words of comfort still in my ears, I made my way back to the bed-and-breakfast. As I turned the final corner, my heart sank. The once-pristine white front door was now covered in splashes of bright red paint.

I put down my shopping bags on the porch and walked up to the paint. It was still tacky to the touch, implying someone had thrown the paint recently.

It felt like a smack in the face, seeing it so bright against the white door. This was my grandmother's house, a place she had loved and cared for. And now it was defaced.

I was angry, not just at the person, but at everything. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I intended for a new start, but now I found myself entangled in a murder investigation and vandalism.

Stepping back, I took a deep breath. I needed to calm down. Getting angry wouldn't help. I needed to think.

I took out my phone and called Gethin. It rang a few times before he picked up.

"Gethin," I said. "Someone's thrown red paint on Willow Grove's front door."

I could hear him shuffling on the other end of the line.

"I'll be right there," he said.

***

Cant wait for the next episode? Follow at https://reamstories.com/mariadean to continue Evie's journey

***