“One day, this guy comes in. Fancy suit, bald, a beard. In his fifties, maybe? Smelled of a corporate man. I remember it being a bit weird, because an important guy like that would send someone else on his behalf, but … anyway, he says he’s looking for his friend who’s gone missing, and he fears the worst. Asks if he can take a look at the unidentified bodies. I’m happy to help—you know, the more of those we get off the list, the better. And would you look at that, after he sees a few, he recognizes a man. The body was pretty badly burned, but he recognized a bracelet. And he tells me that’s Simon Montague and to please issue a death certificate for him.”
Burnett collapsed back into his chair. “And that’s all of it, I swear. I didn’t think anything was wrong! Why would someone come in and want to identify a body if their friend was still alive?”
“Do you have any proof of his presence here?”
Burnett shrugged. “We have cameras at the entrance. It was a while ago, but the recording of him arriving might still be available.”
“And we have him,” Chris nudged her head toward Burnett. “He can testify.”
“Ah—” Burnett started.
“You’re not in trouble,” Simon calmed him down. “The other guy is.”
“Really?”
Simon sighed. “Yes. Like you said, you did nothing wrong. You didn’t know what was going on. But thank you for your help.”
As Simon and Stan turned to the door, Chris also followed, but looked back over her shoulder at Burnett. “And don’t leave the country.”
“I still wonder,” Stan said once they were back in the car, “why Everett wanted you dead.”
Why, indeed? They’d never even quarreled. In fact, in most things, they saw eye-to-eye. However, there was the problem of the last three years. “In later times, before I left,” Simon said, “How have I been—well, how didyouperceive me?”
Stan stared dead ahead. “Different. Not as interested in business anymore. You and Everett argued a few times. Over funds and grants and other stuff.”
That would have been Raleigh. Everett wouldn’t have known about the paranormal mumbo-jumbo, though. Did he think Simon was going crazy? That he wasn’t good for the company anymore?
“So, we have some proof and a witness,” Chris said. “What do we do now?”
“The tech conference starts tomorrow. Everett’s presentation is a day later,” Simon said. “I say we prepare and make it a memorable one.”
***
Shanna shifted her gaze from the plane window, where the last bits of New Zealand’s ragged coast disappeared behind the wing, to the letter lying in her lap. Having gone through so many readings—some in anger, some in an effort to understand—and even one mauling from a kea, the lines on the crumpled paper had become so fine it almost looked smooth again. It only feltsofter, like it was a fine fabric, not paper, and the slightest breeze could blow it away.
Shanna’s eyes slid over the words, even though she’d committed them to her memory by now.You’ll always be in this witch’s heart, her mom had written. Perhaps at the time, she believed it. She might have liked Shanna as a person now, but she’d never be in her heart in that way again.
And that was fine.
The women of the O’Connell family faced their curse in different ways. For Gran, it was collecting photos and writing things down. For Mom, it was seeking freedom. And Bella was free. She broke her curse by learning not to care about it, and though it might seem heartless, Shanna knew how much strength that took. She’d never have that kind of strength, but that didn’t mean she was weak, either.
She folded the letter once more and returned it to the box. It turned out her mom had been gone since the day Gran couldn’t sense her with a spell, after all. But Bella was still out there, and Shanna wished her all the best, and to find that mix of peace and excitement she sought.
The plane gave a slight shake as it passed through rougher wind, and Shanna smiled as a voice comforted her in her mind.No curse can conquer the forces of nature.
She wasn’t sure when she’d drifted off to sleep, but when she woke up, they were so high above the ocean the sky almost melded with it. A sliver of pink rose on the horizon, meeting with a massive cloud of dark blue. Shanna pressed her face to the window, realizing in a bit the blue area wasn’t a cloud at all—it was the night they were leaving behind, flying into the sunrise.
They were right in between them; the twilight and the new dawn. The best witching times. She’d always preferred the in-between, although many witches liked to cast their spells in the heart of the night.
The heart …
Shanna patted the little metal box, running over the words in the letter again in her mind.
You’ll always be in this witch’s heart.
You came to this far corner of the world, and there was the other half of your soul and the solution to your curse.
The Witch’s Heart.
