Free Wish by Alexandra Bullen Page B

that I accidentally wished for Violet back?”
    “You mean, other than the fact that you’ve been taking cues from the corner of the room since you got here?”
    Violet and Olivia looked at each other, before Olivia hurriedly looked away.
    “Regardless,” Posey continued, swinging her legs down and walking slowly to the other side of the room. “There are some things we need to talk about.”
    “Okay,” Olivia said, following Posey behind the hanging quilt in the corner. “Like what?”
    “Like rules,” Posey said, crouching down and opening a hidden, rounded door. Cool, damp air rushed out, encircling Olivia’s feet, as Posey reached into what appeared to be a neglected crawl space. She fumbled around with one arm before pulling out a heavy, leather-bound notebook and plopping it onto the floor.
    Olivia knelt beside Posey to get a closer look. Loose, yellowing pages shuffled out from one side, and a cloud of dust escaped in a poof around their faces.
    “Hold on,” Violet, who was standing over Olivia’s shoulder, interrupted. “Does Harry Potter know she stole his diary?”
    “Sorry about the dust,” Posey said, squinting and waving her hand through floating particles. “I haven’t opened this since, well since my abuela died, I guess.”
    Olivia nodded and shifted her weight forward. The aged brown leather was embossed with the initials M.M. in shiny gold print. Posey flipped open the cover, which was slowly pulling away from the thick, frayed binding, and carefully turned through the pages.
    “This is just the record book,” Posey said, running her finger down a list of names, scrawled in the same elegant script. “I need to sign you in.”
    Olivia looked up at Violet.
    “Maybe she wants to send thank-you notes?” Violet offered.
    Olivia rolled her eyes. “So.” She turned back to Posey. “The rules?”
    “Right,” Posey said. “Rules. There are only a few, but they’re important. Especially the first one.” Posey found a pen from behind her ear and began filling in the date on the next available empty line. “The first rule of Wish Club,” she was saying, “is that you do not talk about Wish Club.”
    Olivia nodded as Violet rolled her eyes.
    “Wish Club?” Violet droned. “Unless Brad Pitt is hiding in that closet somewhere, I don’t think a Fight Club reference is all that appropriate.”
    Olivia was close to laughing when she felt Posey’s eyes, hard and severe, boring holes into the crown of her head.
    “Okay.” Olivia nodded. “Got it. Next?”
    Posey snapped the pen into the binding of the open book. “The second rule of Wish Club,” she went on, “is that you DO. NOT. TALK. About Wish Club.”
    She stared unblinking into Olivia’s eyes, as Olivia began fiddling with her fingernails.
    “Um…” She spoke tentatively. “Okay?”
    “Seriously,” Posey went on. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t tell a soul. Not about the dresses, not about the butterflies, definitely not about the wishes. Not even about me or this shop.”
    “Sounds like a pretty successful business model,” Violet snorted. She was now wandering around the shop, glancing at a series of framed articles featuring photos of a much younger Posey and a large, gray-haired woman draped in a muumuu.
    “I don’t need the business,” Posey said sternly.
    Olivia could feel Violet taking a step back from the frames, as if she’d set off an alarm.
    “All that matters to me is that I help people who need helping,” Posey explained. “And if you go running to all of the Bay Area with this, I won’t be able to do that.”
    Olivia nodded.
    “It’s important that your sister understands that one, too,” Posey said.
    Olivia looked back to where Violet was standing in front of one of the mannequins, inspecting its hard, angular face. Olivia threw her a look.
    “Aye, aye,” Violet said, saluting the frozen bust.
    “I think we’re good,” Olivia reported back.
    Posey indicated a line on the notebook