With full hands, I pause to give each of them the stink eye before leaving the room. About to turn the corner, Gale’s quiet words make me pause.
“He’s a good man, Renata… and I’ve never believed what the rest of the town does. Neither did Sylvie. Nor Cordelia and Edmond.”
Rolling his words around in my mind, I shrug and admit, “Belief doesn’t change what the fates have already decided.”
“Can destiny not be changed or manipulated?” he muses.
With a dry smile, I tell him, “You’re the Divination Witch. You tell me.”
Not waiting for a response, I sweep out of the room and force myself to join the rest of our group back on the patio.
I’m thankful when I find an open seat next to Clover. I suspect it was Esme’s seat.
Too bad.
It’s not much payback for what they’re doing to me.
Except I’ve positioned myself right across from Archer and I’ll have to watch one of my gorgeous, warm friends sit next to him all night.
Clementine talks about random memories from Florida, trying to fill the awkward silence until the rest of the group returns. I’m too busy counting the chairs, wondering why there are nine rather than eight.
“Are we expecting anyone else?” I lean over and ask Clover.
She takes a moment to count the chairs herself and shrugs. “I don’t think so. Rowyn told us Gale planned on inviting his—” her eyes glanceat the handsome brunette man, “—newest employee. I don’t think it was plural. Maybe it’s his twin?”
“Mm,” I murmur. “Maybe…”
With a sympathetic smile, she pats my leg and thankfully doesn’t push the topic.
I’m not sure what there even is to say.
Meeting anyone in Archer’s family, much less the person I assume means the world to him, feels exhilarating andwrong.Still, I would’ve liked to be prepared for this… to hopefully win them over before I have to do the unthinkable to end this curse.
That’s never been my strong suit anyway.
As the three witches bring out the main course—one of my favorites from Rowyn’s recipes, chicken pot pies with an apple salad and cranberries on the side—Archer confirms what Clover and I were whispering about.
“Gale, did you remind Sybil about the dinner?” He looks around nervously.
Rowyn’s grandfather nods, concern taking over his expression as he pulls out his pocketwatch.
“I offered to stop by the library so we could walk together,” he mutters to himself and begins to stand from his chair.
Rowyn pauses her serving and I can see the distress reaching her features. Her dinner has the potential to go downhill fast, and it’s her nature to care for everyone.
“Should we look for her?” she asks.
Archer’s gaze finds mine, and I see his uncertainty.
Clover is halfway out of her seat, aware of how important a sibling relationship is, when someone comes rushing around the corner. She’s a clumsy blur of dark brown hair flying in the wind, a bell-sleeve patchwork top, and flare jeans.
“Sorry I’m late!” she yells out. Immediately, her eyes find her brother’s, and her mouth pops open in a smallO.
Archer flinches at her words, but gathers his senses to meet her halfway. He places a hand on her arm and watches her intently for a long moment. She ignores him, looking around and catching her breath. When her blue eyes meet her twin’s, she smiles and reassures him. It’s too low to hear.
After a whispered conversation, Archer turns toward the group. He waves his arm out, ready to introduce her.
She jumps in. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” she repeats to the group. Looping her arm through her brother’s, she comes up the porch stairs and takes a seat next to his chair. “I’m Sybil, by the way. You’ve already met my brother, it seems.”
