Chapter 5
Martha runs.
She doesn’t think—her body just moves, legs burning as she dives sideways across the food court tile. The Ferris wheel car slams down where she’d been standing, shattering tables, sending plastic chairs skidding like toys.
The sound is deafening.
Jessie grabs Martha and hauls her up. “MOVE!”
They sprint past Panda Express, past the flickering neon of Auntie Anne’s, past shoppers who don’t react—who just keep eating, talking, laughing, like none of this is happening.
Martha risks a glance back.
Sophie is still standing there, perfectly calm, Evan beside her, his hand hovering near her back like she’s something fragile and precious.
“Sophie!” Jessie shouts. “Stop this!”
Sophie tilts her head. “Why would I?”
Her voice isn’t amplified now. She doesn’t need it to be. The mall itself seems to lean toward her words.
“You were supposed to be careful,” Martha says, breathless. “You were supposed to listen.”
“I did listen,” Sophie replies. “To the book. To the town. To what everyone actually wants.”
She gestures around them.
“Look. The mall’s alive again. Stores are open. People are happy. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Jessie glares. “At what cost?”
Sophie’s smile falters—just a hair. “That’s the thing. There’s always a cost. I’m just the only one brave enough to pay it.”
Evan steps forward, eyes unfocused. “She’s right,” he says. “Everything feels… better.”
Jessie rounds on him. “You don’t even sound like yourself.”
He frowns, like the thought physically hurts. “I am myself. I just finally know what matters.”
Sophie squeezes his hand.
Martha feels something snap inside her.
“You don’t get to decide who matters,” Martha says, voice shaking but loud. “You don’t get to use people like ingredients.”
Sophie looks at her then—really looks.
For the first time, her expression isn’t smug or amused.
It’s irritated.
“You’re still mad you were invisible in high school,” Sophie says. “This isn’t about morality. It’s about power. And you never wanted it badly enough.”
The mall lights dim.
The Ferris wheel groans again, its shadow stretching across the food court like a clock hand.
Jessie pulls Martha back. “We can’t fight her here.”
“Correct,” Sophie says pleasantly. “You can’t fight me at all.”
The floor splits.
Tile cracks open between them, a jagged line tearing through the food court, separating Sophie and Evan from Jessie and Martha. Black liquid—like the fountain water—seeps up through the cracks.
Sophie steps back, untouched.
“Choose,” she says.
The word hits Martha like a punch.
“Choose what?” Jessie demands.
Sophie raises the book.
“Who pays next.”
The mall PA crackles again, but this time it isn’t Sophie’s voice.
It’s the mall’s.
Old. Layered. Endless.
M A R T H A H A R P E R.
Martha freezes.
Jessie whips around. “No.”
Y O U O P E N E D T H E B O O K.
Martha’s chest tightens. “I didn’t mean to—”
Y O U A S K E D.
Images flood her mind: the rain, the thrill, the moment she felt seen.
Sophie watches with naked interest.
Jessie steps in front of Martha. “Take me instead.”
The mall goes quiet.
Even Sophie looks surprised.
Martha grabs Jessie’s arm. “What are you doing?”
Jessie doesn’t look back. “I’m not letting it take you.”
Sophie’s lips part. “Jessie—”
“No,” Jessie snaps. “You don’t get to say my name like that.”
The silence stretches.
Then the voice returns.
A S U B S T I T U T I O N I S P O S S I B L E.
Martha’s heart pounds. “No. No, no, no.”
Sophie’s eyes shine. “See? It’s fair.”
Jessie clenches her jaw. “What does it want?”
C O N S E N T.
Martha feels like she’s going to be sick.
Jessie turns to her, finally. Her voice is gentle. “You didn’t ask for this. I did, the moment I let it continue.”
Martha shakes her head violently. “There has to be another way.”
Jessie smiles sadly. “You always look for rules. I look for exits.”
She steps forward.
Sophie’s smile fades. “Wait.”
Jessie pauses. “What?”
Sophie swallows. “If you do this… you can’t come back.”
Jessie studies her. “Is that supposed to scare me?”
Before Sophie can answer, Evan speaks.
Softly. Broken.
“Sophie,” he says. “I don’t feel right.”
She whirls on him. “Not now.”
“No,” he insists, clutching his head. “I hear it too. And it’s— it’s hungry.”
The Ferris wheel stops turning.
The mall holds its breath.
Jessie closes her eyes.
“I consent,” she says.
The black liquid surges.
Martha screams.
The floor opens fully beneath Jessie’s feet, swallowing her in shadow.
“JESSIE!” Martha lunges forward—
And Sophie slams the book shut.
Everything stops.
The mall screams.
Lights explode.
The Ferris wheel collapses in on itself, metal screaming as the illusion tears apart.
Jessie is gone.
The floor is whole again.
Silence.
Sophie stares at the book, shaking.
Evan drops to his knees, sobbing. “What did you do?”
Martha sinks to the ground, numb, empty, broken.
Sophie whispers, barely audible, “I didn’t choose her.”
The book’s cover pulses once.
Then a new title burns itself into the leather:
THE FOOD COURT WITCH CLUB
— TWO REMAIN —
Martha looks up at Sophie.
And understands the truth.
The book isn’t finished.
And Jessie isn’t dead.
She’s somewhere else.
