“In case you didn’t know, Mrs. Madder died last night, and Lena will be executed in a week. People are suffering and you just don’t want to care anymore and would rather ignore it all and live in your dream world.”
“That’s not fair,” he said. “I care. Everyone cares. Not that I need to explain myself to you, but some of us can only handle so much before our sanity ruptures and we spiral into darkness.” He turned his gaze away and began sliding another book on the shelf. “Besides, look what happened. Lena used her magic, and it accidently killed her grandmother. This is what Augustine has been trying to warn us about. Enforcing the anti-magic law is the only way to maintain order. We can’t live in a lawless town. If witches ran wild, imagine what kind of place this would be. Secondly, I’m not killing anyone here, so don’t take it out on me.”
“Lena is a good person.”
“I know. And if I were in her shoes, I would have done the same. It’s an impossible situation to be in, but we all have the freedom to make decisions, but with each choice comes a consequence.”
Milo was right but that didn’t mean I wanted to hear it.
“It shouldn’t have to be likethis, though. Things need to change.”
Seconds passed in solemn silence, and then, “I can’t imagine what she’s going through,” he said, returning his attention to sliding another book onto the shelf. “I’m hoping Founder’s Day will lift this town up. At least for a day.”
The Founder’s Day Ball. The night the engagement would be announced. With every new reminder, another piece of me was ripped out of my body. “Yes, because that’s what these people need...”An arranged marriage and false hope. Let’s give them something else for their happiness to depend on. Or distract them from a woman currently stuck in a cell, awaiting her execution.
“If I remember correctly, the Founder’s Day Ball is your favorite event of the year,” Milo added. Another book slipped between us. “Shouldn’t you be hiding away in your shop making dresses, or, you know,doing whatever you’re best at?” A nonchalant smile slid across his face.
“Get back to work, Milo.” I ran my finger across the shelf, collected dust, and blew it into the shelf’s pocket between us. “And clean this place up while you’re at it.”
Milo laughed and shook his head. “Always a pleasure, Adora.”
I stalked off, tightening my satchel around my shoulder, and headed for the area marked off as Rare Books&Special Collections.
I’d donated Mom’s book years ago.
It was the one she’d written after Kane tarnished her soul. Years passed as she slowly faded, and she used those years to get this story out before the catatonia took her indefinitely. Every so often, I would stop in to ensure it was safe. Seeing and touching it took me back to times she’d told my sisters and me tales after dinner and before shut-eye. I was convinced her soul had left her body and buried itself among the pages. The reason I didn’t want her book in the house. It was something else for Ivy to destroy afterMom had destroyed us. I felt obligated to do what was right for the book. It was the only one she’d ever written. But when I approached the tall maple shelf, there was an empty space where it should have been.
“It’s gone,” Milo confirmed. He was leaning against the bookcase, arms folded over his chest.
“What do you mean, it’s gone? It wasn’t for sale. Where did it go?”
This store was supposed to keep it safe.
Anxiety started a slow crawl inside me, and I squeezed my fists to fight it.
My nails opened the crescent moon-shaped scabs in my palms, and I felt the heartbeat of my splinter pound.
“You’re not the only Sullivan girl who comes in here, you know.”
I gnashed my teeth together. “Fable?”
Fable was only four years old when the coven came to our house, but she missed the idea of a mother and always asked questions about her.
Milo chuckled. “You would think, but no. It was Ivy. She was just in yesterday, took it right out from under our noses.” He sighed. “A deal’s a deal. Fitz has been on my ass about it. That book is part of the town’s history. You need to talk to your sister and tell her she needs to bring it back before I’m fired.” Then he walked off.
My fists relaxed, and a warm trickle of blood dotted the inside of my palm and slid around my wrist. Ivy must have found out that I’d donated the book. She could have followed me, seen me through the shop window when I was careless. But why hadn’t she confronted me about it? Did she think I would never find out that she had stolen it?
An hour later, I paced Ivy’s bedroom after searching almost every inch of the cottage. A trunk sat at the foot of her bed, and I dropped to my knees and began rummaging inside.
“What are you doing?” Ivy asked from behind.
Her presence didn’t stop me, and there was no point in lying.
“You stole it. I know it was you.” I continued pulling items out of the chest and tossing them onto the floor.
Ivy grabbed my shoulders and yanked me backward just as my fingers latched on to the missing book.
“I can’t believe you,” I said, pulling away from her and holding up Mom’s book between us. “What are you doing with this? Were you planning to burn it? Tear the pages out? How much will you ruin before she’s gone forever?”
