They don’t remember the horror on our parents’ faces. The power that we summoned that day was unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Unlike anything I’ve ever felt since.
And I know it has something to do with the kraken, even though I can’t place it. It’s all muddy.
“Do you remember this? Remember why we did it? Remember we had to? Remember what happened after?” Iask the questions in rapid succession, trying to force them to remember. I don’t want to have to relive this.
I don’t want them to, either.
“I wish there was a book that could tell us how to do this again and why we did it in the first—” Something falls off the bookshelf behind us, slamming to the concrete floor and making all of us startle.
“I don’t think we should say anything like ‘I wish’ again. Not down here,” Rose says cautiously.
“Take the picture off the wall,” I say to her.
Caleb eases her away and takes it down himself.
“I’ll carry it.” He holds it gingerly. “I’ve got you.”
For a second I think maybe there’ll be a message from my grandma behind the picture. Something there. A safe. Maybe some kind of indication of what the hell we’re supposed to do to make things right in Silverlight Shore.
But there’s nothing.
Just a slightly less dusty patch behind the picture frame.
“I’ve got the book!” Posey yells out.
“Get your butt up here right now so help me?—”
“We’re coming,” Posey yells back.
“Go.” I make a shoo motion. “We can explore this basement lair of weird witchiness later, but we need to talk about what’s happening in this picture.”
“Basement lair of weird witchiness?” Posey snarks, doing her impression of me.
“This is freaking me out,” Rose moans. “What is it that you remember that’s so awful?”
“It’s not anything that you guys don’t already know,” I hedge.
“Well, considering I don’t remember this day at all and you do?—”
“That’s not true,” Rose argues.
“Get upstairs and have this conversation with Hazel so I don’t have to do it twice,” I say, suddenly completely exhausted.
And all too aware of how filthy I am and that I’m wearing oversized sweatpants that are dangerously close to slipping all the way off my hips.
I’m tired. I slept on a couch. I talked to a kraken last night. Then I cleaned up Sugar & Salt all morning.
And now — now I have to figure out how to break it to my sisters that this spell is what made our parents leave. That we scared them so badly they decided they wanted nothing to do with us.
“Ivy. You good?” Caleb asks gently, his large hand spanning the width between my shoulder blades.
I nod.
“I’m okay,” I tell him.
It’s a lie.
I shrug his touch off and follow my sisters upstairs.
