Chapter 2
They don’t go back to work.
They don’t even talk about it.
They just run.
Jessie drags Sophie by the wrist, Martha stumbling behind them, shoes slapping wet tile as they burst through the mall’s side exit and into the parking lot. The rain outside is normal—Ohio summer drizzle—but Martha still flinches every time a drop hits her skin.
They pile into Jessie’s car, an old red Civic that smells like coconut sunscreen and gym bags.
“GO,” Sophie snaps.
Jessie doesn’t argue. Tires screech. The mall shrinks in the rearview mirror, emergency lights still flashing like an accusation.
For a full minute, none of them speak.
Then Sophie laughs again—too loud, too sharp.
“Well,” she says, brushing wet hair out of her face. “That was kind of iconic.”
Martha twists in her seat. “Someone could have gotten hurt.”
“But they didn’t,” Sophie says. “And admit it—you liked it.”
Martha opens her mouth to deny it.
She can’t.
Jessie’s jaw tightens. “We don’t mess with this again. Whatever that was.”
Sophie turns, eyes bright. “You’re not serious.”
“I am,” Jessie says. “This town is already messed up enough.”
Sophie snorts. “This town is dead. That’s the point.”
She reaches into her bag.
The book is gone.
Martha’s stomach drops. “Sophie.”
“What?” Sophie says innocently. “You weren’t exactly keeping it safe.”
“You stole it,” Martha whispers.
“I borrowed it,” Sophie corrects. “And honestly? I think it likes me.”
Jessie slams on the brakes.
The car jerks to a stop.
They’re no longer on Main Street.
They’re at Lake Wren Amusement Park.
Or what’s left of it.
The rusted gates loom open, warped and crooked, the faded sign swinging in the wind. The Ferris wheel stands frozen against the sky, one car dangling at a crooked angle like it gave up halfway.
“This place is trespassing,” Jessie says.
Sophie grins. “Perfect.”
They climb out of the car.
The air smells like algae and metal. The lake beyond the park is dark and still, reflecting the roller coaster’s twisted silhouette.
“This is where my dad used to bring me,” Jessie mutters, more to herself than them. “Before he left.”
Martha didn’t know that.
Sophie didn’t either—but she files it away.
They walk deeper into the park, gravel crunching underfoot. Martha keeps glancing at the book tucked under Sophie’s arm.
“Give it back,” she says softly.
“Relax,” Sophie says. “I just want to try one more thing.”
Jessie stops. “No.”
Sophie flips the book open anyway.
That’s when they hear footsteps.
“Hey.”
The voice is low. Calm. Male.
All three of them freeze.
A guy steps out from behind the ticket booth.
He’s tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair falling into his eyes like he doesn’t care enough to cut it. He’s wearing a faded security jacket—LAKE WREN – NIGHT STAFF—unzipped over a plain black T-shirt.
He looks about twenty-two. Maybe older. Definitely hot.
Jessie straightens instinctively.
Sophie smiles like she’s been waiting her whole life for this moment.
Martha just panics.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” the guy says, not aggressively. More curious. His eyes flick to the book. “This place attracts weirdos.”
“Lucky you,” Sophie says. “We’re very weird.”
He laughs despite himself. “I’m Evan.”
Jessie crosses her arms. “Are you going to call the cops?”
Evan shrugs. “Nah. I don’t get paid enough to care.”
Sophie steps closer to him. Too close. “So… you work here alone?”
“Usually,” he says, eyes flicking to her mouth. “Tonight especially.”
Martha watches it happen—something electric, immediate, like Sophie bends gravity around her.
And then Sophie does something unforgivable.
She opens the book.
“Martha,” Jessie snaps.
Sophie reads anyway.
Not loudly. Not theatrically.
Just enough.
The wind picks up.
Evan’s expression shifts.
His eyes lock onto Sophie like the rest of the world just… falls away.
Jessie feels it first. The wrongness.
“Oh no,” she whispers. “Sophie, stop.”
Sophie closes the book.
Evan steps forward.
“You’re… incredible,” he says, voice soft, reverent. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
Martha’s hands start shaking. “You cast a love spell.”
Sophie looks stunned—for half a second.
Then thrilled.
“I didn’t even mean to,” she says. “I just wanted to see if—”
Evan reaches for her hand.
Jessie grabs his arm. “Hey. Back up.”
He doesn’t even look at her.
“Don’t touch her,” Evan says, suddenly cold.
The Ferris wheel creaks.
Metal groans.
A bolt snaps.
One of the cars begins to sway.
Martha screams.
Evan turns just as the cable gives way completely.
The car detaches.
Falls.
Straight toward Jessie.
Sophie watches, frozen, as the spell keeps working—and the park starts to answer.
