Bo’s brow furrows. “But … they have four kids.”
“No,” I mutter. “They had four experiments.”
25
Bo
My feet stumbleas I trip over that word.
Experiments.
“What does that mean?” I ask the question slowly, not sure I want the answer while also needing to know.
There’s an urge in my chest to learn every detail about Mor Shelly. To tuck the facts away like little treasures.
All the more precious if the pieces of knowledge come from her pain because her sharing them means I have some of her trust along with them.
That’s something I’ve realized about Georgiana. She trusted that I would do anything, be anything for her. But she didn’t give truly deep parts of herself to me. Only some of her truth, but not all.
Not like Mor is doing right now, in this grocery store as she stares at yogurts.
“My parents are both witches. Strong ones. They are fascinated by spells.” Her throat bobs with a hard swallow. “Ifthey hadn’t been born with magic, I know they would have become sorcerers, stealing it from any mythic they could find.”
“How do you know that?” I rasp the question, not asking because I doubt her, but because there’s a sickening note behind the surety in her voice.
Mor flicks her eyes to me, then away. “Because they had plenty of power, but they still used a leeching spell on me.” She straightens her shoulders, then reaches for a four-pack of strawberry-flavored Greek yogurt. “I was twelve when I got my powers. It took me two years to figure out how to build shields. After that, they couldn’t take anything, but only because it seemed like I had nothing left to give. I trained my powers to present as dormant. They thought they had drained me.”
I’m going to be sick.
My mother left me.
My father ignored me.
But neither of themusedme.
“Mor—”
“I was stupid.”
“No—”
“Yes, I was. Stupid and selfish. Because I convinced myself I was the only one at risk. That Broderick and Anthony and A-Ame”—her voice cracks on her sister’s name—“were safe. That they would only leech from me.”
“They did it to all of you?”
She nods. “Male witches take longer to age into their powers. But Ame, she was just a little girl, and they … have you noticed how her skin looks sunburned?”
I nod, recalling the redness on the youngest Shelly’s arms. I figured it was because she liked to be outside and forgot to apply sunscreen.
“That’s this.” Mor fingers the locket around her neck. The little piece of jewelry holds the red powder she coated her handsin before reading my emotions. “A special concoction for us Shelly witches. Helps to strengthen and focus our powers.”
“How …” I’m not even sure what I’m asking.
How does that red powder connect to reddened skin?
“They were bathing her in it. Scrubbing it into her skin. Trying to cause her powers to manifest before puberty.” Mor lets out a chuckle with no humor. “An experiment. And it worked. She was exhibiting magic really early.”
“That’s sick.”
