My great aunt Daisy does not share the same spiritual devotion as my grandmother, nor does she like early hours, so I know she’s asleep.
I have to be careful. My grandmother is smart and gifted. Anything left out of order will be clearly noticeable.
When her bedroom door opens with an ominous magically induced creak, I glance around, more than familiar with the room. I just have to figure out where she would be hiding something. Where would she have information on my mother?
I feel guilty for assuming she’s lying to me about my mom, but something feels off. Even if my mother had lost it, why would no one in the coven go searching for her? She’s hiding in plain sight only a few hours away.
I tap my wand on my palm, causing it to glow brightly as I look under her bed and through her closet. I don’t find anything and the guilt feels even heavier for doubting her.
My boot hits a floor board that squeaks just as I’m about to leave, so I shift my weight on it, before bending down and using my wand to pull it back.
A large cigar box is in there and I swallow before pulling it out and opening the contents. I pull out multiple pictures of my mother; she looks happy and radiant in all of them, she looks like she fits in with the coven.
There’s a rose gold wand that looks similar to my own, which I assume is hers.
“Why?” I ask out loud, staring at the contents of the box as a throat clears behind me.
Fuck.
“Did you find what you were looking for, granddaughter?” she asks and I swallow.
The answer is not really, but I nod my head, anyway.
She sighs and sits on her bed, facing the window and she pats next to her, indicating that I should sit down, so I do, bringing all the photos with me.
Grand-mère smiles sadly over the photos, dragging a finger down my mother’s portrait.
“She used to be happy. She loved coven life,” she says.
“Grand-mère, what really happened?”
“I’ve been trying to shield you from the truth,” she says.
I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what the harsh reality is, and I couldn’t be more shocked by what she tells me.
“Lavender had a wild spirit. She loved to test the limits of things. She wasn’t afraid of anything. Not even my disapproval,” she says with a laugh, staring down at the photo of her daughter. “She wasn’t afraid when she told me she was pregnant, and Iwasn’t upset. It is unusual for a witch to have a child so young, but growing the coven is always a blessing.”
“My father?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“Some human boy she was smitten with and met at a party. It’s our blessing to only bear daughters of magical abilities, but unfortunately we do need human men in that regard,” she says with disgust.
“She changed with her pregnancy, her magic depleted, she became sick in the mind and of the body. Our healer monitored her closely, but she was old and not as effortlessly talented as you.”
I’m worried she’s about to lie to me and tell me that she is indeed dead, but she grabs my hand and squeezes.
“She ran away during her last month of pregnancy, concealed herself with what magic she had left. I’m not sure why. But when I found her months later, she was no longer pregnant, and no longer capable of magic.”
I blink at my grandmother. “What?”
“It’s very rare, but I fear you ripped your mother’s magic from her. When I found her, I asked her where you were and she said you didn’t make it and that she just wanted to forget it all. I wanted to bring her back to the coven. She was my daughter. I love her still. Part of being a parent is letting your children make their own choices, so I gave her that wish. I erased everything, and she now lives her life as a human, not knowing our ways or who she once was, or who you are.”
“She told you I died?” I ask. Staring down at the photo and trying to make sense of the story.
It doesn’t match with that letter I found in the mansion, but what reason does she have to lie to me? A lot of things check out. Why my mother didn’t recognize me, why she has no magic, why she would want to forget me after taking her gift from her?
“I don’t know why she told me that. I would have brought you into the coven immediately upon your existence. But I couldn’t feel you. Her last act of magic was concealing you from the world, and I still don’t know why.”
“Have you seen her since then?” I ask.
