The house was gone, it had burned to the ground the night her mother had died and had obviously never been rebuilt. She opened her eyes and dragged in a shaky breath, tears blurring with the rain. In a way, she was glad. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel if there was another in its place filled with a happy, loving family, something she’d had once a very long time ago.
The house no longer stood, but it seemed someone had gone to the trouble of planting a lovely garden on the vacant lot, like a memorial. Olivia frowned as she stared at it. Even this late in the year, it burst with colors so vivid it was like being inside an oil painting, but there was something unnatural about the beauty, it didn’t seem to fit.
The obstinate buzzing in her ears had now graduated to a low murmur, incoherent but insistent. Her body trembled as she felt an intense pull, an uncontrollable urge to step forward. It was almost as if the ground itself was trying to speak to her, to reveal its secrets. Before she even realized what she was doing, Olivia lifted her foot and stepped onto the grass.
Everything disappeared, and the air was suddenly filled with the acrid scent of burning timber. The daylight was gone, along with the stinging rain. Instead, the dark air was filled with thick, oily black smoke. It scalded her mouth and throat as she coughed violently, and her lungs burned as they filled with noxious fumes.
She could see her house in front of her, it burned hotter than any fire she’d ever known, the heat so intense that it felt like her skin was peeling. The roar of the flames filled her ears drowning out the persistent buzzing as the windows melted and dripped down the front of the building like dirty tears.
It was as if she’d stepped straight inside a memory but experiencing every moment as if she’d stepped back in time to that awful night. Her body flooded with adrenalin, pounding through her veins as she watched in horror. The roof collapsed inward with a shockingly loud splintering sound, throwing burning ash and dust into the choking air. The wall of heat was too much. Her skin felt too tight, and her eyes stung, causing her to stumble back a step.
The second her foot hit the sidewalk, the flames disappeared. Once again, she felt the fat drops of rain drip down the collar of her jacket, settling cold and uncomfortable someplace between her shoulder blades.
The dim daylight returned, hidden beneath heavy gray storm-laden skies, and once again, the colorful rain drenched garden appeared in front of her. Kneeling, Olivia pressed her hand into the wet earth. This time, she felt rather than saw the violent echo of fire and flame. Drawing in an unstable breath, her fingertips curled involuntarily, digging into the mud. The garden was an illusion. Beneath its pretty mask, the stench of blood and fear lingered, the ground itself scarred from that night.
Straightening up, Olivia took another step back. Her heartbeat slowed and resumed its regular pace, and all she could hear was the steady clatter of rain against the sidewalk once more.
She stared at the garden, deep in thought. It took some serious magic to hold a permanent illusion in place. It couldn’t have been her aunt Evie’s magic, although she’d had the skills, her spells would’ve begun to weaken and disperse after her death.
Her brow furrowed as she puzzled over the pretty illusion, but unable to figure out who could have conjured it. She didn’t have any family left; Aunt Evie had been the last of the West’s, other than herself, and she couldn’t imagine who else would’ve had the skill or inclination to cast such an intricate and long-lasting spell.
“O-Olivia?” a quiet voice hesitated behind her.
She turned slowly to find herself staring at a blond-haired woman about her own age. Her vivid blue eyes were wide and glassy with shock as she stared at Olivia. A lock of hair had escaped her bright yellow windbreaker and was plastered to her pale heart-shaped face.
A small smile tugged at the corner of Olivia’s lips. Although older, she recognized the face in front of her.
“Hello, Louisa,” she said softly.
“Oh my god,” Louisa gasped. She closed the space between them and threw her arms around Olivia, squeezing her tightly. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”
Olivia pulled back, studying her childhood friend. “I’m surprised you recognized me. It’s been a long time.”
“Are you kidding?” Louisa answered. “I’d know you anywhere.”
“How have you been?” Olivia asked, not really knowing what else to say to a woman she hadn’t seen in almost two decades.
“We thought you were dead,” Louisa blurted out.
“Sorry?”
Louisa drew in a breath. “We thought you were dead,” she repeated a little softer. “Jake and I didn’t know what happened to you. We kept asking Mom and Dad where you were, but all they would tell is that you were gone. We thought that meant you’d died but they didn’t want to tell us. Even the people in town didn’t seem to know what had happened to you.”
“Well, this will certainly give the town gossips something to talk about then,” Olivia murmured in resignation.
“Where have you been?” Louisa asked.
“Everywhere.” Olivia shook her head. “Nowhere…” she huffed out a small self-deprecating laugh, “and every place in between,” she added. “It’s complicated.”
“I’d really love to hear about it,” Louisa said, her big blue eyes filled with sincerity. “Have you got time for a coffee?” She nodded across the street toward a tidy little blue house with cheerful dollhouse shutters.
“You still living with your parents?” She eyed the house where she’d spent a good deal of her childhood, hanging out with Louisa and her brother Jake.
“God, no.” Louisa laughed. “I’ve got a place in town. Mom and Dad are away for a few days, and I just swung by to pick up the mail and feed the cat. They won’t mind if we stop in and get out of the rain.”
“I can’t,” Olivia muttered, her eyes still locked on the house.
“Please,” Louisa pleaded softly. “I’d really like to talk to you.”
