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oh, lovely,” Dorothy said as she pulled an arrangement of gold and brown leaves dotted with bright red berries out of the large box she’d just opened. “And the perfect size for our lampposts.” Callie smiled, letting out a small sigh of relief. She’d searched long and hard for the right street decorations for Keepsake Cove, the unique section of Mapleton on Maryland’s Eastern Shore where she now lived. Filled with every kind of collectible shop anyone could imagine, Keepsake Cove had developed a reputation for stunning seasonal and holiday decorations, which highlighted the Dickensian quaintness of its shops. This, in turn, drew tourists and collectors from far and wide to admire, take photos, and of course shop. In a moment of fearlessness or madness, Callie wasn’t sure which, she had volunteered to handle that year’s autumn decorations. It had only seemed right at the time. She’d recently been given so much. First, the collectible music box shop, House of Melody, which she’d been shocked to inherit through the untimely death of her Aunt 1