Sitting on the coffee table across from them, I shake my head and pat her knee reassuringly. “I’m not accusing you of anything. But you said you hadn’t come because of the call itself. Your grandmother’s demandthat you answer it.”
Realization dawns on her, and she nods. “That I needed to take our family’s place back here. Something like that, yeah.”
“What does that mean? Does your family have a history with the Dreaming Willow?”
Her brows furrow. “I assumed so—I didn’t ask a lot of questions.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Esme has turned out to be the most easy-going person of the group. She’s not only open to any new adventure, but she’s excited for them.
“She’s never asked a lot of me, nor has she ever been crazy about my free-spirit. So, when she told me to go, I did. Didn’t even think twice about it,” Esme admits.
Regardless of what brought her here, I’m thankful for her company.
“What about you?” I ask in a more gentle tone, facing the Foxglove sisters now. “How did you get the call? Or know to come?”
“Our granny talked about the Dreaming Willow all the time,” Clementine answers. There’s a layer of sad nostalgia to her voice. “She’d never been here, but her mom passed down stories of our ancestors’ time here, history she learned from her mom, who learned from her mom. And so on.”
“How didyouknow?” I ask again.
Clover shrugs sheepishly. “The wind carried the message to us. We had been sitting in the small sunroom in our family’s home late one night, and we both just… heard it.”
Clementine nods in agreement as Clover whispers, “‘The Dreaming Willow needs you…Sheneeds you… Go now…’”
“I swear it was our granny,” Clementine adds. “And the gentle nudge was mom, wasn’t it?”
She’s looking at her sister now, needing confirmation that she didn’t imagine this interaction with her kin who’s passed.
After dealing with my deceased ancestors, I have no room to question this. Not that I’d want to—I believe them.
“It felt like it,” Clover answers softly and wraps an arm around her sister.
“Well,” Rowyn says, startling me. I hadn’t realized she was back in the room and listening to the last half of our conversation. “I only had to come from about three streets over, and the instruction also came from my grandfather, but my gran had a hand in it all too.”
I offer her a small, warm smile that feels alien to my features. It dies quickly when I quietly admit, “I’ve had a feeling since Rowyn arrived that the spell didn’t call out to random people. My blood mixed with the curse or the house, but there’s a reason it’s all of you.”
“Then it’s time you start to realize you aren’t in this alone anymore,” Clementine adds with an eye roll.
Turning to her, I let out a low laugh and look around the group.
“Yeah, I think you’re right about that.”
“Wait,” Clover interrupts, “What’s that?”
I know what she’s pointing at before I even turn around, but I look at Rowyn anyway. She’s clutching Petra’s journal in front of her chest, and there are two photos sticking out.
“I forgot I saved that one too,” I say and grab the book from Rowyn’s hands.
She’s startled by the quick movement, but easily lets go of the journal, taking a seat next to me on the table. As soon as I pull the two photos out from the place they were holding for me, she gasps in surprise.
“Oh, I didn’t even think about this,” Rowyn admits. “Other than she’s one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen—which now double checks out.”
With a teasing, sly expression she raises her eyebrows and tilts her head in Esme’s direction.
Throwing her head back, Esme laughs and asks, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She’s damn well aware of the amount of sensuality she emanates, even for a Love Witch.
“To be fair,” I tell Rowyn, “You start to think about the resemblance between people much more after you’ve seen your own doppelgänger.”
