Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

skin filled with the colors of life. She bent over, clutching her sides as the
black of her teeth turned to white.
“Wh-aaat,” the woman said. “Wha-aaaat is … this? What. Is happening?”
“You’re safe,” Hugo said. He glanced at Wallace who arched an eyebrow,
a pointed look at Hugo’s chest. Hugo nodded, and Wallace breathed a sigh of
relief. Another hook had appeared in Hugo’s chest, connecting him to the
woman. It’d worked. “I’ve got you. Can you tell me your name?”
“Adriana,” she whispered.
The Manager muttered through a mouthful of scone.
Since that day, they’d helped a dozen more Husks. Sometimes it was Mei.
Other times, it was Wallace. There were days when they’d leave to find the
Husks themselves, and others when the Husks would appear on the road
leading to the tea shop, surrounded by hoofprints in the dirt. Some were
harder than others. One had been a Husk for close to two hundred years and
didn’t speak English. They’d managed to help him by the skin of their teeth,
but Wallace knew that it would only get easier from there. They’d do what
they could for all who came to them.
The people of the town were curious about this new addition to Charon’s
Crossing. It didn’t take long for rumors to spread about Wallace and his
relationship with Hugo. People came in to gawk at him. The older women
cooed, the younger women seemed disappointed that Hugo was off the
market (as did a few of the men, much to Wallace’s complicated glee), and it
wasn’t long before the newness of it all faded and Wallace became yet
another fixture of the town. They waved at him when they saw him on the
sidewalk or in the grocery store. He always waved back.
Wallace Price became Wallace Reid. At least, that’s what his new ID and
Social Security card said. Mei told him not to ask too many questions when
she’d handed them to him after returning from a three-day trip to visit her
mother, which she said had gone better than she expected. “Mom knows
people,” she said, lips quirking. “She picked out the last name for you.
Showed her a couple of pictures of you, and she told me to tell you the
surname is because you’re thin as a reed, and that you need to eat more.”
“I’ll write her a thank-you note,” Wallace said, distracted as he brushed a
finger over his new name.
“Good. She’s expecting you to.”