Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

“Yes,” Wallace said. “And whether or not she’ll find her way isn’t up to
us. I don’t give a crap who else you go near, but leave Nancy alone. Even if
none of them can hear us, you don’t want to run the risk of making things
worse for her.”
“Worse,” Alan repeated. “You think I’m the one who could make things
worse.” He cocked his head. “Has Hugo told her about all of this? Is that
why she comes here, because she knows Hugo helped her daughter cross?”
“No,” Wallace said. “He hasn’t. He’s not allowed. It’s part of being a
ferryman.”
“But he did help her girl cross,” Alan said. “And somehow, part of her
knows that, otherwise she wouldn’t be here. What does that make Hugo if
he’s lying to her? And if part of her does know, that means she isn’t like
everyone else. Maybe she can see us. Maybe she can see me.”
Wallace stepped in front of Alan again as he tried to move by. “She can’t.
And even if she could, you don’t get to put her through that. I don’t know
what it’s like to be you. I’ll never understand what happened to you, or what
it must have felt like. But you don’t get to use her to try to make yourself feel
better.”
Alan opened his mouth to retort but stopped when Hugo walked through
the kitchen doors. The din of the tea shop went on around them, but Hugo was
staring at Wallace and Alan, a tea tray in his hands. Mei stood on her tiptoes
and whispered something in his ear. He didn’t react. She glanced at them, and
if Wallace didn’t know her, he’d have thought nothing of her blank
expression. But he did know her, and she wasn’t happy.
Hugo walked around the counter, fixing a smile on his face. He nodded at
everyone who greeted him. As he passed Wallace and Alan, he spoke from
the corner of his mouth. “Please stay away from her.”
He continued on without stopping.
Nancy stared out the window as Hugo set the tea tray down on the table.
She didn’t react as he poured the tea into the cup. He set the cup in front of
her before taking his seat opposite her, folding his hands on the table as he
always did.
Alan watched them, waiting.
When nothing happened, he asked, “What’s he doing?”
“Being there for her,” Wallace said, wishing Alan would let it go.
“Waiting for her to be ready to talk. Sometimes the best way to help someone