I would go wherever it was he wanted.
The coffee gurgled behind me, filling the air with its awakening aroma as I looked out the window where a new day laid out before me, but not another day where I wouldn’t get to be with him. I was determined.
I took my coffee out back and sank in a rocking chair. Broken tree limbs and leaves and evidence of a storm covered the short distance between Gramps’ house and the edge of the cliff.
Gramps’ house.
But Gramps was no longer here. Who would take care of this property now? Did I have to leave, find a new place to go? Who would I even go to regarding these matters?
“Good morning,” Monday whispered, coming through the back door and interrupting my thoughts. Black eye makeup smudged around her eyes, and her red hair was pushed and tangled to one side. She took it upon herself to sit in the chair beside me. The small creak of the chair filled the awkward silence for a moment before her eager voice returned, “When you first got here, I told Kane and Maverick that you were going to be working at the funeral home with me. I was just excited to meet you … I didn’t expect them to use you against me.”
Her words called my attention, and I tilted my head, looked at her. “How could they use us against each other?”
Monday pulled her feet up on the base of the seat, pressed her knees to her chest. The air outside was brisk and comforting. I’d never noticed before how dark-green her eyes were. They weren’t bright like Zephyr’s or faint like Adora’s, but a deep, forest-green.
Then I noticed the way she clutched around the warm mug. I noticed the way her eyes cast downward. I noticed the short intake of breath…
“They said if I could convince you to join Sacred Sea, it would be my ticket in, too. But then I started to like you, Fallon. Like, we could really be friends, you know?” She shook her head. “I’ve been holding on to this guilt since we met. Like it was always standing in the way between us.”
Really be friends? Like the friends who jumped off a cliff to save one another? The kind who wouldn’t force the other into a coven when they didn’t want to be? The kind where we could tell each other anything, without judgment? I wonder what a real friend was like …
But then I thought of Julian. He had done all these things. My mind spiraled, and I began to question all the people in my life. Fable and Kioni,hell, Adora—Were they holding on to any guilt? Ulterior motives to be my friend?
“I just wanted to join so bad,” Monday continued, “finally be a part of something, be somewhere I belonged.” I remembered what she’d said about her family and how she felt so different from them. I, too, knew what rejection felt like. How it felt not to be accepted. “I just wanted to tell you the truth. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I at least wanted you to know the reasons, not that I’m justifying my actions.” She inhaled deeply and dropped her head back, then looked at me. “I wish we could just start over.”
I nodded, rocked in the chair, drank from the mug, then set my head back as well. “What’s the status with Sacred Sea then? Are you one of them now?”
“Not yet. I’m not finished with initiation, but after it’s done, I will be. But I promise, I’ll never push anything on you again,” she told me. “And if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure Kane got punished for what happened to Benny.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, surprised.
Monday nodded. “I haven’t seen Kane since that night, so who knows for sure. But every time he’s gone for this long, it’s always because he did something wrong. And if I’m right, it will be a while before you have to see him again. Mr. Pruitt handles family business in-house. He’s not easy on Kane.”
Monday and the rest of the girls gathered their things to leave after that. We all hugged and said our goodbyes. Kioni hung back for a moment to ask if I would be okay here all alone. I told her that being alone was all I’d ever known. I didn’t mean to say it in a way to receive pity or attention. But it was true.
I’d known aloneness, rather thanloneliness, and, most recently, accepted it as I accepted myself. Here, in Weeping Hollow, I learned to love myself and found a home within my own bones, no matter what would become of me. And I accepted the permanent ache too, the one that was always there and only grew. Because it reminded me of all the times I’d been swallowed by a pair of silver eyes, and it punched me with a fist full of fortitude to never let go of Julian Jai Blackwell.
Tonight, I would go into the deep and dark woods for him, the Hollow Heathen—the one who everyone called a monster yet lived with a triple existence:the ruthless villainhe made all believe he was, and what the town made him out to be.The gentle oneno one else could see, a delicate being who wore his soul like skin and a halo around his edges, fiercely passionate, with a severe thirst for more of everything and an appetite for audacious love.Then the miserable creaturewhen he was alone, retiring into himself, branded with guilt and shame and submitted to the darkness for solitude because he couldn’t bear to face the mere fact of solely existing.
I would go to him, and I would love him. All of him. Over and over … on repeat. Because I was certain all these things he was made of were the very parts missing in me.
“We made it through the storm, witches. It’s wicked Wednesday, and only three more days until Samhain. The rumors are true! I will be at the Pruitt Ball. If you can identify me, a surprise you will receive. This is Freddy in the Mournin’ with your Wednesday morning Hollow Headlines. Stay safe out there, witches, and remember, no one is safe after 3 a.m.”
Freddy’s announcement had come later in the morning. Almost as if there was a skip in the town’s step after Gramps died. Almost as if the entire world had been affected by the loss of him. It warmed my chest knowing the world noticed.
After finishing the crossword puzzle, I called Jonah from the house phone.
“You’re on bereavement,” he told me. “You can return after All Souls Day if you choose to stay in town.”
I did choose to stay. Weeping Hollow was where I belonged, where I’d always belonged.
The ghost of Casper’s pitter-patter followed behind me as I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the Morgan property. Numerous times, I’d passed Gramps’ closed bedroom door, unable to bring myself back to the bed where I’d sat next to him in the mornings, me laughing and him mumbling insults and things I could hardly make out half the time.
I couldn’t confront the bedside where I’d spent many sleepless nights to watch him sleep, watch him catch his breath. It was the same place where I’d had to call Mina Mae or Dr. Morley because I didn’t think I was doing it right, or if he would make it through the night. I couldn’t confront the hats on the wall, or inhale his distinct scent that smelled like the last drop of aged-whiskey from the bottom of a barrel, or see the imprint of his head remaining on his pillow. Not yet.
I cracked his bedroom door open to see if missing Casper was trapped inside, but he wasn’t. Then I spent an hour making flyers with markers from the hutch in the hallway to pin around town.
By the time the sun was setting, I’d showered, dressed in my black bra, sheer white top, and leather pants, and slapped on heavy make-up to make me look normal and not a corpse, pulled on my oversized jean jacket and black boots.
