Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

tea doesn’t mean I love every kind of tea.” He smacked his lips. “Ah. There’s
the honey. Almost worth it.”
“Have you ever been wrong picking out a tea?”
“For people who come in here alive? Yes.”
“But not the dead.”
“Not the dead,” Hugo agreed.
“That’s … remarkable. Bizarre, but remarkable.”
“Was that another compliment, Wallace?”
“Uh, sure?” Wallace said, suddenly uncomfortable. He was standing
closer to Hugo than he realized. He cleared his throat as he took a step back.
“Man, that taste doesn’t leave.”
Hugo chuckled. “Sticks with you. I liked yours much better.”
That shouldn’t have made Wallace as happy as it did. “Was that a
compliment, Hugo?”
“It was,” Hugo said simply.
Wallace took those two words and held them close, the bitterness he felt
no match against the sweet of the aftertaste.
Hugo pulled out more leaves from the jar, setting them on a small plate
next to the teapot and cups. “There. How does it look?”
“Like you went outside and picked up the first thing you found on the
ground.”
“Perfect,” Hugo said cheerfully. “That means we—”
At the front of the shop, the clock stuttered loudly and then stopped, the
second hand twitching.
“They’re here,” Hugo said.
Wallace wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. “Should I just…” He
waved his hand in explanation.
“You can come out with me if you’d like,” Hugo said, picking up the tray.
“Though, I ask that you let me handle him or any questions he may have. If he
talks to you, you can respond, but do so evenly and calmly. We don’t want
him to be any more agitated than he already might be.”
“You’re worried,” Wallace said. He didn’t know how he’d missed the
tightness around Hugo’s eyes, the way his hands gripped the tray. “Why?”
Hugo hesitated. Then, “Death isn’t always swift. I know you don’t think
so, but you were lucky. It’s not like that for everyone. Sometimes, it’s violent
and shocking, and it follows you. Some are devastated, some are furious, and