Petunia marched around her shop, ushering all of the customers out the door. “I’m closed for the rest of the day,” she told them and pushed them out. “Trouble in paradise,” Madame Torres chirped from deep within my bag. “History will always catch up to you.” There was a little too much pleasure in her voice. I tucked my bag up under my arm so Petunia wouldn’t hear her and get even more freaked out. “Petunia, what about Mr. Prince Charming?” I asked. “Not good.” She shook her head and more dried things that I couldn’t even tell what they were fell out and to the ground in piles as she walked. “None of this is good. You go and get ready for the meeting and be sure to bring materials for an impromptu smudging ceremony.” She barked orders at me as she took scoops of food and put them in bowls all over the shop. “Are you feeling okay?” I asked her. The color in her face had turned ashen. She ran around the shop putting things on not only the wrong shelves, but in the wrong aisles as well.
