Here we are, Em’s sweet sixteen. Not that it’s so sweet. I feel like shit, not being able to give her the celebration she deserves, but I have to keep reminding myself it’s for the greater good. I wish you could see her today. She’s such a good kid, smart, polite, conscientious, and there’s something else bubbling away under the surface. She’s getting more curious by the day and I don’t know how much longer she’s going to accept her old dad’s version of the world. Wales is working out for now, the farm is far enough away from everything, there’s no public transport to speak of, and I keep her busy with her studies.But I remember being sixteen. She’s already mastered the eyeroll and every day she’s making plans for the future.
Alex emailed to say happy birthday from her and the twins, but there’s still no update on Ashley, she hasn’t seen her in months and she says Bell House is a mess. The whole thing breaks my heart but my hands are tied. What can I do? I’d get Ash out of there in a heartbeat if I could but there’s no way of contacting her without Catherine finding out where we are and that is not an option. Not now, not when we’re so close.
There are days when I question it all. What if I’m wrong? What if my mother is languishing in the ruins of my home, frail and failing because of me? Then I look at Em and it all comes back. Catherine never wanted a granddaughter, she wanted a Bell witch. That’s the cold, hard truth.
Things will become more difficult as Em gets closer to her seventeenth. Sometimes I think her magic is manifesting already, the way she looks out the window right before it starts to rain. Maybe I’m imagining it. She killed the Chia Pet I gave her for Christmas, hardly an indication of a natural witch. All my research says she’ll be fine, the world will be fine, as long as I keep her away from Savannah and away from my mother.
I looked up and stared out across the river. Alex and the twins? Did he mean Alexandra Powell? It couldn’t be anyone else. Swallowing hard, I thought back to those days in Wales, trying to remember if I’d ever felt even a hint of my magic. There was nothing concrete I could recall; it rained all the time, if everyone who looked out of a window right before it started to rain in Wales was a witch, they’d have to burn the whole population. I closed the journal entry and scrolled ahead to the last file.
Dear Angelica,
We have to move. I thought we’d be safe here until herbirthday but my gut says something’s wrong. I know if you were here, you’d tell me not to be so superstitious but you’re not, are you? No one is here for me. Sorry, that’s not fair but I’m scared. God, I wish you were here to help me, I wish you could see her. She asks about you and our family all the time but I’m keeping my promise; no stories, no photographs. She just has the one picture of you and I, by our tree. Some days that’s the hardest part, not being able to tell her about you, the thought that if you were around, she would most likely walk past you on the street like you were a stranger.
As soon as I’ve decided where we’re going, I’ll book the flights. Somewhere remote, somewhere in the middle of the ocean. I’ll tell Em it’s a graduation gift, one last stop on our journey until her birthday. She might not be happy but at least she’ll be safe. At least she’ll get to live a normal life.
It was the last entry.
The next day, my dad was dead.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I let Bell House guide me home. My eyes were open but I was only vaguely aware of cars and crosswalks, and before I knew it, I was in Lafayette Square. Was I imagining it or did the house look fresher? Were the windows shinier than they were when I left? Too dazed to sneak back inside, I opened the front door and let it swing all the way into the wall, Dad’s words ringing through my head and silencing all other thoughts.
Catherine doesn’t want a granddaughter, she wants a Bell witch.
‘Goddamn it, Emily, do I have to put a goddamn tracker on you?’
I was still numb when Ashley flew downstairs to meet me in the foyer. She didn’t look any better than she had that morning. Her hair was fixed but there wasn’t much she could do about her sickly pallor. There wasn’t a blush and highlighter combination on this earth that could perk her up.
‘Catherine is going to spit when she finds out you left the house.’ She hustled me into the kitchen and pushed me down onto a stool. ‘When I say she’ll be madder than a wet hen,you’d better believe me. You ever seen a wet hen, Emily James? I’m telling you she’s going to be pissed.’
‘I found my dad’s diaries,’ I said, gazing blankly around the light-filled kitchen. The beautiful painted cabinets, the shining copper pots and pans. ‘He took me away from Savannah to keep me safe.’
‘No, he took you away because he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life as your servant,’ she replied. ‘And left that thrilling task to yours truly instead.’
‘That’s not it at all,’ I murmured, not really registering anything Ashley said. ‘He believed in the blessing, our magic, the prophecy, but he didn’t want it for me. Neither did my mom. They wanted me to have a regular life.’
Ashley opened the refrigerator door and took out a jug of iced water, pouring two tall glasses. In no rush at all, she put the jug back and returned to where I stood. Then, right in front of me, my aunt raised one of the glasses and quick as a flash, threw the water in my face.
‘Normal?’ she yelled as I stared at her in shock, ice-cold water snapping me back to my senses. ‘He wanted you to be normal? News just in, sweetie, you’re not normal. You’re a witch. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you’ll always be a witch. Your daddy didn’t hide you away to save you, he stole you out from under our noses because he didn’t understand his place, and even after everything that’s happened since you got here, neither do you.’
‘He did understand,’ I choked, wiping the water from my face. ‘He was trying to help.’
‘Help himself,’ she replied, stone cold. ‘Paul resented your magic, he didn’t want to be the powerless one. He hated witches.’
‘That’s not true!’ I exclaimed. ‘He loved me. How can you say he hated women when he was protecting us.’
Ashley scoffed and threatened me with the second glass. ‘That’s rich. Paul didn’t give a fig about me.’
‘Then why is your birthday the password to his computer?’ I volleyed back. ‘Why does his diary say he would get you out of here if he could but there was no way of contacting you without it getting back to Catherine?’
Her arm wavered and she leaned back against the kitchen counter.
‘How do you know that?’ she asked, spilling the second glass of water all over the marble surface as she shakily set it down.
‘Because I have his laptop and I found his journals,’ I replied. ‘My dad was afraid of what would happen if I stayed in Savannah, just like I’m afraid. Catherine loves to tell me I’d feel different if I’d grown up here but he grew up here, he heard all the stories and he still didn’t have her blind faith. What if she’s wrong and I’m right? What if Ican’tcontrol my magic?’
‘People believe what they want to believe.’
