Raven Night Grove Mysteries

Blossom’s Diary Raven wrapped herself in the plush towel Mara had left hanging by the clawfoot tub, steam curling around her like soft ghost fingers. The bath calmed her nerves, but not her thoughts. The whisper… the shadow… the way the candle leaned toward the darkness… None of it made sense. And yet, somehow, it all felt familiar. Cookie waited outside the bathroom door, tail flicking with exaggerated impatience, as if he’d been standing guard the whole time. He led her down the hall into the kitchen, where Mara had set out a plate of freshly cooked scrambled eggs, warm cinnamon-apple bread, and two slices of bacon. A steaming mug of coffee sat beside it. Mara smiled as she slid into the chair across from her, setting her own plate down, giving a quick thanks to “the land’s bounty” before digging in. Raven smiled and followed suit. The eggs were fluffy and perfectly seasoned, the apple bread practically melted on her tongue with bursts of tart apple and warm cinnamon butter. She decided then and there that Mara was some kind of bakery sorceress. The bacon had the perfect crunch and smoky flavor. “I think I died and ended up in culinary heaven,” Raven sighed. Mara beamed. “That’s the highest compliment anyone has ever given me. Thank you.” “Well, it’s the truth. I bet people drive for miles just for your baked goods.” Raven took a sip of her coffee and actually rolled her eyes back in pleasure. It was rich, thick with heavy cream, and flavored with something sweet she couldn’t place. She missed the odd look that flickered across Mara’s eyes before she looked back down at her plate. “I think this is one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever had. Seriously, Mara, thank you. My tab is going to be huge if I don’t leave soon.” Mara’s head snapped up. “Oh, you must stay a while, Raven. I’m really enjoying getting to know you, and the fog is predicted to linger. Stay as long as you like. And no tab — it’s… it’s nice having a young woman here. Almost like having a daughter again.” The moment the words left her lips, Mara looked startled. Raven’s expression softened. “Did you have a daughter, Mara?” Mara nodded, her voice turning hesitant. “Yes. A long time ago. But she was taken from me, and we never found her.” “Oh, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry.” Raven stood and hugged her before she could overthink it. Mara patted her arms. “It’s alright, dear. It was long ago. I still hold out hope she’ll come home.” A strange look flickered across Mara’s face, but Raven missed it as she hugged her again. “I just know she will,” Raven murmured. “One day she’ll come home to you.” “Yes,” Mara whispered. “One day.” Raven gathered their plates and carried them to the sink. “Thank you, Raven. Now — since you might be staying a bit longer, why don’t you go explore Thornwood’s main street? There are a few shops… even a pizza place. I need to go open the bakery and get coffee and teas brewing. Come back whenever you like. The house will always open to you.” There she goes again, Raven thought — talking about the house like it was alive. But she smiled and nodded. “I’m not in a rush,” Raven admitted. “I was headed to the coast, taking a break from college, so… why not stay a while? But I don’t want to impose on you. If there’s a hotel—” “NO!” Mara blurted, then cleared her throat. “No, no… you’re welcome here. The room isn’t being used. And I like your company.” Her emotions flashed too quickly to hide, but Raven shrugged it off. “Well, if you insist,” she said warmly. Mara impulsively hugged her again. Raven returned the embrace and wondered why Mara felt so much like home. For a fleeting moment she wondered if she could be Mara’s daughter — but that was impossible. Raven’s records said she’d been found abandoned as a baby in an empty house, her birth mother a drug-addicted woman who overdosed with no ID, no family, no history. Not even a driver’s license. They’d named her Raven because a raven’s nest sat in the windowsill above her — the mother bird attacking caseworkers as if protecting her own chick. No… Mara couldn’t be her mother. But she hoped Mara’s daughter was alive somewhere. A furry missile launched itself at her. Raven barely caught Cookie. “Cookie!” Mara scolded. Cookie ignored her, purring loudly as Raven held him — a five-pound sack of potatoes with fur. He pressed his face against her, rubbing his scent onto her like he was claiming her before wanting down. Then he waddled back to the kitchen and meowed pointedly at Mara. Raven laughed as Mara got up. “Alright, alright, your breakfast is coming.” After feeding Cookie and locking up, Mara headed out for the bakery. Raven waved goodbye to Cookie, grabbed her purse, and stepped outside. The sun shone brightly — but in the distance, a massive fog bank encircled the town like a wall. It was the oddest thing she’d ever seen. She walked down the street, passing more people than she expected for such a small place. Maybe tourists… or others stuck until the fog lifted. A wooden sign reading Book Nook swung gently in the breeze. “Well, that’s original,” she muttered, pushing open the door. The inside smelled of old pages, cedar, and faint lavender. Tall shelves lined the walls, and the place seemed far larger inside than it looked from outside. In the back, stacks of used books sat in haphazard towers below a hand-painted sign that read Discount Treasures. As Raven drew closer, one book felt… wrong. Not damaged-wrong. Waiting-wrong and off some how. Its spine tugged at her attention — the same soft pull she’d felt in Mara’s hallway, a whisper behind her ribs. Before she realized she was moving, Raven reached for it. It wasn’t a book. It was a diary. Worn leather. Softened edges. A pressed daisy sealed beneath brittle parchment. Inside the cover, a name was written: Blossom Pike — 1897 Raven skimmed the entries — beginning like a schoolgirl crush, then shifting into something stranger. Blossom wrote about a boy… except the boy wasn’t a boy at all. A fae. A creature with a wicked smile and moonlit eyes. A lover she swore she couldn’t live without. His name was Eryndor Mossveil, a member of a fae clan living beneath the forest mound. Blossom wrote pages upon pages of their secret meetings, defiant love, and her parents’ desperate attempts to keep her away from the woods. Raven thought this girl had some imagination. Suddenly another book dropped somewhere in the shop. It felt like her mind snapped free from a spell. Raven gasped, sucking air like a fish out of water. The row she was in was empty except for a clock chiming at noon. Her stomach grumbled. She closed the diary, and a folded news clipping fell out. The Thornwood Pines Gazette. This tiny town had a newspaper? It told of Blossom’s disappearance in chilling detail: how the townsfolk formed a search party and scoured the woods until their lanterns burned low. But the forest kept its secrets. No footprints. No torn fabric. No sign she had ever existed at all. Blossom simply vanished… as though the woods had claimed her. Her parents was distraught. She took the diary to the counter. The clerk barely looked at her, mumbling a “thank you, miss,” handing her change as a line formed behind her of customers with books in their hands. Raven raised an eyebrow at how distracted the clerk was but let it go. Her stomach demanded lunch. Across the street, Pied Piper Pizza beckoned. Seriously, was she in a fantasy show? Inside, the place looked like an Italian village café with cream-colored stones making up the outside and an ornate iron scrolls around the wood sign. A bored hostess seated her, but before Raven could open the menu, an older woman plopped into the seat across from her. Grey hair. Sharp eyes. Zero hesitation. “Hello, dear. I’m Mrs. Halloway — editor, writer, printer, and deliverer of the Thornwood Pines Gazette.” Before Raven had time to breathe, she was being interrogated — where she was staying (approval at Mara’s name), who her family was, what she studied, how long she planned to stay. Once satisfied, Mrs. Halloway launched into rapid-fire gossip, including stories about Blackthorn Manor and the missing heir, Callum Blackthorn, who had vanished “in suspiciously poetic fashion. How Mrs. Halloway was six generation in running the Gazette and her family had always been here. A young waitress delivered pizza, salads, cider, and wine. Mrs. Halloway ate and spoke in alternating gasps and declarations. Raven’s head swam — at least the food was excellent. When Raven finally managed to open her mouth to ask about the article, Mrs. Halloway cut her off, snagged the check, declared lunch was on her, and whirlwinded out the door as quickly as she’d arrived. “Well… that was interesting,” she muttered as the waitress cleared their plates. Raven ordered cheesecake, another cider, and reopened the diary. Time vanished. She didn’t realize how quiet the pizzeria had grown until the waitress returned with her check. “Miss We’re closing.” Raven blinked at the clock. Three p.m. Apologizing, Raven handed her some bills saying keep the change. She packed the diary into her bag, paid, bundled into her coat, and stepped outside. The fog was worse now — thick, swirling, almost… directing her. “Look,” she muttered to the fog, “you could just tell me where to go instead of being so pushy.” She laughed at herself and tried heading toward the coffee shop, but ten minutes later her surroundings looked unfamiliar, like she’d wandered into a fae labyrinth. Then suddenly — the fog parted. A glowing storefront appeared out of nowhere. The Candle in the Garden. Raven stared. Why were all these stores named like fairy tales? She pushed open the door. Warmth. Herbs. Beeswax. Rosemary. A crackling hearth. “Merry met!” a cheerful voice called. Raven blinked. Merry met? Who even said that? A renaissance fair worker? A young woman appeared — purple hair, smoky almond eyes, bronze skin, curls hinting at a mixed heritage. Raven liked her instantly. “I’m Juniper Vale,” she said. “Local witch-in-training.” Raven laughed. “So who’s the local witch?” “That would be me,” said a woman descending the stairs behind her. “Her mother.” She looked nothing like Juniper except for their identical warm smiles. Long brown waves, hazel eyes that sparkled like forest light, and a flowing dress adorned with moons and herbs. That familiar warmth bloomed again in Raven’s chest — the same warmth she felt with Mara. A cozy, aching sense of home. “I’m May Vale,” the woman said gently. “And yes, honey — we’ve already heard about you. Small town. Word travels faster than common sense. Cider? Fresh from my orchard.” Soon Raven was sipping warm cider, surrounded by candles and herbs, feeling strangely safe. But when she mentioned Blossom’s diary, both women fell silent. “Do you… know if she was ever found?” Raven asked. May and Juniper exchanged a look thick with unspoken things. May guided Raven to a small table in the back. Juniper lit a candle and traced a protective circle around them before sitting. May leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “Please be careful speaking about Blossom. There are ears in the woods that may hear.” “Ears?” Raven asked. “Who lives in the woods?” Juniper laughed softly. “Not people. Or not people like you and me.” “Juniper,” May warned. “Mother, she deserves to know. She’s one of us — just untrained.” Raven blinked. “Okay. No riddles. Mara talks in riddles enough. Please just talk plainly.” May sighed, glanced at the steady candle flame, then met Raven’s eyes. “Thornwood Pines is not like other towns,” she said softly. “We are a town in the mists — here, but not entirely here. And because of that… others are here, but not entirely here, too.” Raven rubbed her temples. “Please. Start at the beginning.” May smiled sadly. “Then tell me, Raven… how did you find this town?” Raven stiffened. But something on their faces told her they wouldn’t judge her. So she told them about the whisper. The fog. The strange pressure. Mara’s insistence she stay. When she finished, the candle still burned tall and unwavering. Instinctively, Raven knew that mattered. May and Juniper exchanged one last look. “Raven,” May said gently, “you didn’t find Thornwood Pines.” Juniper reached out, placing her hand over Raven’s. “It found you.”