Moonlit Novella

Chapter Five

Her day started out innocent enough.

She awoke to the distant melody of birdsong along with the rhythmic tapping of a woodpecker against a nearby tree. Slivers of amber light filtered through the curtains, shifting across the room as the dappled willow outside swayed with the passing breeze.

Disoriented, Ivy pushed herself upright, wincing as stiffness crept up her neck. Sleeping on the couch had been a mistake. She pressed her fingers against the sore muscles, working through the ache, when something caught her eye.

Across the room, the ornate mirror hung slightly off-center.

A perplexed expression stared back at her, trapped within the winding ivy frame. She hadn’t noticed it was crooked before.

Probably that cat.

The thought sent her gaze sweeping over the room, scanning for a familiar shadow of sleek black fur. But as she moved through the cottage, checking the usual hiding places, unease began to settle at the base of her spine. The cat was nowhere to be found.

Then she noticed the attic door, cracked open just enough to reveal a blanket of darkness beyond.

A slow breath left her as her stomach twisted.

Yep. It’s definitely up there.

She hadn’t been back in the attic since she’d found the mirror. Something about that space unsettled her, like anything could be waiting, suspended beneath moth-eaten sheets.

Ivy didn’t want to go up there. Not now.

Instead, she grabbed a ceramic bowl from the cupboard and placed it gently against the kitchen tile. Leftover chicken and rice should be enticing enough to lure it out.

With that, she grabbed her coat and left, stepping into the pale morning light.

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Ivy hadn’t meant to get this close, but the low murmur of voices and the flashing red-blue lights had drawn her in like a moth to flame. The police tape cut a stark line between her and the chaos beyond: officers moving with controlled efficiency, markers placed carefully beside dark stains on the pavement.

She should have turned back. Should have known better than to linger. But something in the air: the familiarity of it, the whisper of something unresolved, it rooted her in place.

“That’s close enough.”

The voice was firm, authoritative. When she turned, she found herself face to face with a man who could only be in charge.

Chief Daniel Mercer stood just beyond the barricade, arms crossed over his broad chest, sharp hazel eyes sweeping over her in silent assessment. His presence carried a quiet kind of control, the kind that didn’t need to be loud to be felt.

Ivy lifted her chin slightly. “I wasn’t trying to interfere.”

Mercer studied her, his gaze cool and assessing. “Didn’t think we’d be crossing paths again so soon.”

Ivy shrugged. “Seems like I keep finding myself in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Mercer’s expression flickered, like he was piecing something together. “Or you’re looking for trouble.”

She lifted her eyes, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry. I just—” She hesitated, weighing her words. “I just moved to town. I didn’t expect to walk into all this.”

Mercer’s expression didn’t shift, but his next words were softer. “Not exactly the kind of welcome wagon you were hoping for, I’m sure.”

She huffed a quiet breath, glancing back at the scene. “What happened?”

His eyes narrowed just slightly. “We don’t give details to bystanders.”

“I’m not just a bystander.” The words left her before she could stop them, something tightening in her chest at the idea of standing on the outside looking in.

Mercer tilted his head, interest flickering across his otherwise masked expression. “No? And what exactly are you, then?”

Ivy swallowed, considering how much to say. There was no reason to bring up her sister. Not here. “Someone who’s seen something like this before,” she said finally. It wasn’t a lie.

He studied her for a long moment, as if trying to place her. To figure out if she was worth his time. Then, to her surprise, his stance shifted, the rigid tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“You from the city?” he asked.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”

“That explains it.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Look, Miss—?”

“Greer. Ivy Greer.”

Mercer’s eyes sharpened the moment she said her name. Something subtle in his expression shifted, like a puzzle piece clicking into place. His silence stretched just a second too long before he finally spoke. “Miss Greer, I don’t know what you’ve seen before, but Ashford Hollow isn’t the city. We don’t deal with this kind of thing often.”

Small towns never thought things like this could really happen, not until it was too late.

Mercer must have caught something in her expression because his brows lifted just slightly. “You planning on making a habit of poking around crime scenes, or is this a one-time thing?”

She met his gaze, steady. “I guess that depends on how many crime scenes I stumble into.”

Something almost like a smirk ghosted across his lips before he shook his head. “Welcome to Ashford Hollow, Miss Greer.” His tone was dry, but there was something else there too, like the faintest trace of curiosity.