The Witch in the Woods

Kelly Martin glanced at her phone, seeing five missed calls from her father. She stared at the screen for a moment, her thumb hovering over the “delete” button. She had no intention of calling him back—now or maybe ever. The distance between them had grown into a chasm over the years, and she couldn’t understand how two people could be so similar yet so fundamentally different. Her father, the tech titan, was a man she once admired, but now he was a ghost of the man he used to be, consumed by ambition and control.

Born in Finland as Mikael Koskinen, her father had always been the prodigy, the smartest person in any room, the one everyone predicted would change the world. After immigrating to the United States in the 90s, he met Kelly’s mother and rebranded himself as Arthur Martin. By the early 2000s, he had created a pioneering e-commerce tool that revolutionized the industry, selling it for a fortune. With that money, he founded BrightStar, a space exploration company that quickly rose to prominence, leading innovations in the field. From there, his empire only expanded—launching multiple successful ventures and accumulating vast wealth. But as his fortune grew, so did the distance between him and his family. His eccentric personality became legend, along with his insatiable drive for power and control, leaving little time for his wife or daughter. What Kelly resented most was his obsession with controlling everything around him—including her.

Now, as CEO of BrightStar, his latest fixation was on the vast, resource-rich land owned by GallU. The moment Kelly started her first academic year at the university, it became clear to her that her father’s interest in GallU wasn’t a coincidence. He wanted more than just the land—he wanted to own the institution itself. Selling GallU was never an option for the Gallanti family, but Arthur had a knack for getting what he wanted by any means necessary.

Through endless investigations, bought favors, and his vast network of influence, he’d uncovered a dark secret about Joseph Gallanti, the university’s dean. It turned out Gallanti had fathered a child outside his marriage—a fact that, if exposed, would destroy his reputation, sever his son Peter’s rightful claim to GallU, and tarnish the Gallanti legacy forever.

Armed with this information, Arthur was ready to make his move. But to execute his plan, he needed inside access—and that’s where Kelly, unknowingly, came into play.

At his office in New York, Arthur sat at his expansive desk, the city skyline stretching beyond the glass. He stared out into the distance, formulating his next steps. The intercom buzzed. “Hey, darling, come into my office whenever you can,” he said, his voice calm but calculated. A few moments later, a young woman with bright blue hair entered the room, her sharp eyes betraying her readiness for whatever mission lay ahead. “Yes, Sir? What can I do for you?” Evelyn asked, her tone professional but laced with curiosity. Arthur leaned back, his expression unreadable. “I have a very special mission for you, sweetheart.”

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Fast forward to the present, and Evelyn was already in deep—far deeper than she’d ever intended to be. As she stood by the door holding Ali close, savoring the warmth of her goodbye kiss, she forgot for a moment who she was and why she was even there. The soft smell of rosemary and orange blossom lingered on Ali’s skin, and it nearly made Evelyn forget she had a report due in five minutes.

The moment Ali stepped out, Evelyn blinked herself back into focus and scrambled to grab the shirt Ali had left draped over the couch. She slipped it on carelessly, the scent soothing but distracting. She opened her laptop and joined the encrypted call. Her tone shifted instantly—cool, professional, precise. She gave her boss the latest update on Martin’s daughter, on her growing friendship circles, and on Evelyn’s integration into them. The man on the other side of the screen nodded quietly, sipping coffee, his face unreadable. But Evelyn wasn’t paying attention to his reactions. She was watching the way Ali’s shirt wrinkled around her wrist as she moved her hand, and the thought of her “girlfriend” made her float for a second too long. She shook it off and continued her report.

---

Meanwhile, at Whispers, Alinda slipped through the back door and into the hidden room behind the heavy velvet curtain. With Mrs. Lynx away for a few days, she knew she shouldn’t be in there—but Evelyn had been encouraging her more and more to break the rules. Since the first night the couple had wandered into the space, Alinda had returned more than once to sit in the stillness, soak in the energy, or conduct little rituals of her own. She’d never used the room for readings before, though. Not until today.

Ali lit a fresh bundle of sage—her own, not Mrs. Lynx’s—and slowly circled the room, wafting smoke through the air, whispering a grounding incantation under her breath. The room responded like it always did: soft and alive, like stepping into a dream. The scent of lavender and dried rose clung to the walls. Light filtered in through the stained-glass window, casting amber and violet shadows across the floor.

The bell chimed in the main shop.

“I’m in here. Come in!” Ali called out, her voice echoing slightly.

Hunter stepped in, visibly taken aback by the room’s glow. “Hi, Ali,” he said, his tone reverent. “This place is… unbelievable.”

“I know,” she said with a smile, gesturing to the cushioned chair across from her. “Thanks for coming, Hunter. Take a seat.”

They sat across from each other at the wide circular table, in the center of which Ali’s deck of tarot cards rested like something sacred. She picked them up and began to shuffle, her fingers steady and confident.

“Set your intention,” she said softly. “Think of what you want guidance on. Be clear.”

Hunter nodded and closed his eyes. His mind wandered through the things that felt good—his relationship with Collin, his health, his family. But his thoughts kept dragging him back to the one thing that gnawed at him lately: his career. Or more accurately, the career he wasn’t pursuing.

He’d always dreamed of a life in politics. Everyone had said he’d be great at it, and they were right—he had the charm, the brains, and the connections. Growing up as Abigail’s best friend, he’d been a fixture in Lake Laura’s political circle. Mayor Armstrong had practically raised him alongside his daughter. But the irony was that Abigail, the person who should have been his biggest supporter, always made him feel small.

Every time he mentioned his ambitions, she dismissed them. At first, he thought she was joking. Later, he realized her ridicule was something deeper, maybe even intentional. It felt like she kept him close not to support his dreams—but to ensure he never flew too far.

He opened his eyes.

Ali had just laid out three cards in front of him in a neat row. She leaned forward.

“Past. Present. Future,” she said.

Her hand hovered over the first card. “The Hierophant,” she said. “You come from structure. Order. A deep reverence for institutions, tradition, and the power of belief systems to create change. You’ve been drawn to these things because they speak to your purpose. There’s a legacy here, a calling.”

She turned over the second card. “The Moon. Right now, you’re in the thick of uncertainty. The Moon speaks to intuition, but also to confusion, illusion, and emotional conflict. Something—or someone—is clouding your inner truth. You’re doubting yourself, your instincts, and maybe even the people closest to you.”

Then, the third card. “The Star.” Her eyes brightened slightly. “A symbol of renewal. Hope. Inspiration. The vision you’ve carried since you were a kid—the desire to make a difference—it’s still alive in you. The path might not be clear yet, but the universe hasn’t given up on you.”

Hunter stared at the cards, his throat tightening. He believed in this. In the way symbols could speak truth. And Alinda’s reading had cracked open something he hadn’t realized he’d buried. A belief that he could still become the person he dreamed of being.

But before he could speak, Ali gave him a pointed look.

“Now, Hunter,” she said gently. “Why did you really want to see me today?”

He blinked, caught off guard.

“We haven’t heard from you in weeks. Brett told us what you said—that crazy story about Lua. We’ve been trying to reach you nonstop. Do you want to talk about that?”

The warmth from the reading lingered in the air, but suddenly, so did something heavier.

Hunter hesitated.

And the cards waited.

“I most definitely do not want to talk about it. And yes, I came here for the cards. You have no idea how much this dilemma has been weighing on me lately.” Hunter’s voice was steady, honest—but that didn’t mean there wasn’t more to the story.

He shifted in his seat, eyes darting away. “Look, Ali… my friendship with Abby might not be perfect. She might not be perfect either. But I still believe a certain amount of loyalty matters…” His words began to trail off, like he wasn’t sure where he was going with them.

“I knew this had something to do with Abigail,” Ali said under her breath. Then, louder, she added, “What I don’t understand is why you’d go and say those things—whatever they were—to Brett of all people. And now you’re telling me you won’t talk to me about it out of loyalty to Abigail? Since when do you and Brett even hang out?”

“Brett’s been besties with my boyfriend and his twin for over a year now, if you must know. They’re super close. Still, I never said anything to Brett. Or anyone else. Not even Collin.”

He stopped there. His sudden silence shifted something in the air. Up until this moment, it had seemed like all it took was a little pressure and Hunter would spill. He gave the impression of someone who wanted to confess—so long as he could pretend he’d been backed into a corner.

“I hate drama, Ali,” he said finally. “I hate that I was dragged into this in the first place. I’ve been trying to just… let it all die down, so we can all move on with our lives.”

His voice was calm, deliberate. He locked eyes with her, enunciating every word with theatrical precision. Hunter might claim to hate drama, but there was something undeniably performative about the way he told his truth—like he’d rehearsed it in his head a hundred times.

“But,” he added, leaning forward just slightly, “I do think you all deserve to know what I know. Before you crucify me.”

Ali didn’t blink. “Enlighten me.”

Hunter exhaled and lowered his voice. “What Abby found out when she went digging… it wasn’t good. Apparently, Lua has no real ties to Manaus, the city she claims she’s from in Brazil. There’s evidence—real reason to believe—she might actually be from São Paulo. And… Abigail found reports of a violent, extreme cult that was active on the outskirts of the city about fifteen years ago. It was run by a mysterious woman. Abby hasn’t confirmed it yet, but she strongly suspects Lua was that woman.”

He paused, giving Ali a moment to absorb the words.

“She thinks Lua came here to escape prosecution. That everything she’s doing now—living in isolation, avoiding questions about her past—it’s all part of that escape.”

Ali’s expression hardened. “That’s all bullshit, Hunter. If you’ve ever met Lua, you’d know that’s not who she is. Isn’t it obvious that Abigail’s just jealous of the weird but very real connection between Lua and Peter Gallanti?”

Hunter opened his mouth to object, but Ali continued without letting him interrupt.

“I mean, come on. Everyone probably knows about them by now. I know you do. The accusations Abigail is making are serious. If you believed them even for a second—why would you let us keep going to the cabin? Why stay quiet while we all kept hanging out there for weeks?”

Hunter hesitated. His fingers tapped nervously against the table.

“Tori knew about it too.”

Ali’s breath caught in her throat. “What?” Her voice was sharp, skeptical. “Tori knew?!”

“She was the one who told me to stay quiet,” he said. “She didn’t explain why, just said it wasn’t the time to share any of this yet. So I kept my mouth shut. Then… things exploded the other day at the cafeteria. And now here we are.”

Ali sat back, replaying her last few interactions with Tori in her head, searching for any signs that something had been off. But nothing had stood out.

“I don’t know how Brett found out about it,” Hunter added quickly. “But it wasn’t from me. I haven’t told a single soul. And honestly? I wish I’d never heard about it in the first place. Because like you said—this could all be lies. And it’s already been blown way out of proportion. Just like everything else in this town lately.”

His voice cracked a little on the last sentence, and for the first time that afternoon, Ali believed him. Or at least—believed that he believed what he was saying.