Bobby the Butcher's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Bobby held the envelope in one hand and stared at the knife on the counter. The blade had been glowing when he walked in this morning — steady and bright, the way it always did when the shop was running right. Now it sat cold and dark under the fluorescent lights. He set the envelope down and picked up the knife by its handle. The glow died the instant his fingers touched it. He placed the knife back on the wooden stand his grandfather had carved. The knife had never done this before. It glowed or it didn't — simple as that. Bobby opened the envelope. Inside, Aunt Jessica's handwriting filled a single card: "The knife knows what you carry. Ask yourself what changed when you became its keeper." No signature. No return address. Bobby read it three times. His chest tightened. The shop was running fine — better than fine. He'd kept every tradition his grandfather started, followed every practice his father taught him. But the knife sat dark on its stand, and Jessica's words felt like an accusation he didn't understand. If the shop wasn't the problem, then what was? He walked to the front window and looked out at the quiet street. The knife had been his proof that he was doing right by the legacy. Now that proof was gone, and all he had was a cryptic note from the one person in his family who'd nearly destroyed everything. Bobby crumpled the card in his fist. If Jessica knew something about the knife going dark, then maybe she knew more than she'd ever let on — and maybe freeing her from witchcraft meant first understanding what she'd done to his inheritance.