Chapter 9: The Tree Burns

For a moment, I just stared at Grandpa Joe, struggling to catch my breath. "I wasn’t sleeping—just thinking. Why are you here?"

He sighed in relief. "Your cousin had an accident here. Why’d you come?"

"Mr. Hawthorne brought me. He just left. I was thinking about my cousin."

It was already evening. The sky was bruised purple and gold, fireflies floating in the grass. I rubbed my face, shaken by how real the dream felt.

Grandpa Joe’s face tightened. "Go on home. This isn’t a good place. Lily’s grave is close by, and that old apple tree of hers—it just caught fire."

My heart lurched. "What? When?"

"Just now," Grandpa Joe said. "The fire started sudden, and by the time folks saw it, the whole tree was gone."

I’d burned the tree in my dream. Now it was gone in real life. A chill shot through me, making my teeth ache. I clutched the charm in my pocket, suddenly heavy and hot.

No… a dream’s just a dream. It can’t be real. I tried to calm myself and followed Grandpa Joe down the hill.

The air was thick with the smell of burned wood, distant sirens, and neighbors’ voices. I kept my head down, feeling the world tilt with every step.