Chapter 17
The puddle-colored sky threatened rain as Sarah walked to Pickering Wharf. A nor’easter would drop soon, the news said, and residents along the coast should prepare for flooding. But the winter weather didn’t keep Sarah from her mission. Clutching her clothbound journal, the angry wind whipping her lips and cheeks raw, she walked to Wharf Street, alongside the gray-blue buildings with the white trim. She walked past the coffee shop and the florist, around the crafter’s market and the Rockmore Drydock. She felt the water sprinkle around her, but she wouldn’t turn back. When she finally reached the Witches Lair, she froze. She couldn’t bring herself to go inside. She turned from the store and walked toward the antique dealer, but she chided herself for weakening. She knew what sh
