Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

“I did,” Hugo said. He held up his hands as if calming a spooked animal.
“And I promise there is nothing to be afraid of.”
She barked out a laugh, wet and harsh. “You don’t get to tell me what I—”
She gasped when Wallace grabbed a chair, lifting it up off the ground. The
blood drained from her face, hand going to her throat. Wallace didn’t bring
the chair to her, not wanting to frighten her more than she already was.
Instead, he carried the chair behind the counter toward the blackboard.
“Careful, Wallace,” Nelson warned. “Don’t give her more than she’s ready
for.”
“I know,” Wallace said through gritted teeth, nudging Apollo out of the
way as he jumped around him, trying to figure out why Wallace was carrying
a chair. He seemed to want to help, biting down on one of the chair legs
before getting distracted by his tail.
Wallace set the chair on the floor before glancing back. Nancy hadn’t
moved, jaw dropped at the sight of a chair floating through the air. He
grunted as he climbed up on the chair. “Sorry about this,” he muttered before
wiping his hand across the blackboard. The words—specials, prices, all
around the quote about tea and family—smeared in white.
“Oh my god,” Nancy whispered. “What is this? What’s happening?”
Wallace lifted a piece of chalk from the base of the blackboard. He wrote
one word.
SPARROW.
Nancy let out a strangled sob before rushing forward. “Lea? Oh my god,
Lea?”
Underneath SPARROW, Wallace wrote: NO. NOT YOUR
DAUGHTER. NOT HERE. I WISH SHE WERE. SHE HAS MOVED
ON TO A BETTER PLACE.
“Is this a joke?” Nancy demanded, voice thick, eyes wet. “How the hell
did you know about the sparrow? It … outside her hospital room. It
always … who are you?”
Wallace wiped away the words before writing again, chalk scraping
against the blackboard.
I DIED. HUGO IS TAKING CARE OF ME.
“Why are you even talking to me, then?” Nancy asked, wiping her face
angrily. “You’re not who I want.”