The woman looking back at her felt different. Not because of the dress or the hair or the makeup. Because of the way she stood. The way she looked at herself.
Like she belonged in her own skin.
Like she wasn’t broken. Had never been broken, not really.
Like she was powerful.
The door opened behind her. Ramona turned.
Kashvi stood in the doorway, wearing a deep blue dress that made her golden skin look ethereal. Percival the ghost cat wound around her ankles.
“Wow,” Kashvi said. “Your hair.”
“Too much?” Ramona asked.
“Not enough.” Kashvi smiled. “It’s perfect. Very ‘I just broke a lifelong curse and I’m here to make everyone uncomfortable about it.’”
Ramona grinned. “That’s exactly the vibe I was going for.”
“You nailed it.” Kashvi stepped into the room. She adjusted Ramona’s necklace — a simple gold chain they’d found in her old jewelry box. “How are you feeling?”
Ramona considered lying and saying she was fine, but this was Kashvi. Her coven. Her family.
“Terrified,” she admitted. “And sad. And angry. And—” She stopped. “Like I should be able to feel Zara. Through the tether. Know what she’d say about all this. But there’s just… nothing.”
“That sounds awful,” Kashvi said softly.
“Itfeelsawful.” Ramona’s voice came out sharper than intended.
Kashvi put a hand on her arm, her eyes warm and gentle. “I know what it’s like to lose someone. To have them ripped away without warning.” She paused, but didn’t expand on the revelation of her past that Ramona had never heard before. “And I know that going to this gala won’t fix it. Won’t make the grief goaway. But it might give you something else to think about. Even just for a few hours.”
“I’m sorry you’ve lost someone, too,” Ramona said softly, squeezing Kashvi’s hand.
“Hasn’t everyone, in their own ways? Grief is universal,” Kashvi said. Their eyes met in the reflection, and Kashvi smiled. “Enough sad talk. Come to the gala.”
Ramona looked at herself in the reflection again. At the purple hair, finally the way she’d always wanted it. At the emerald-green dress. At the woman who looked powerful and whole and nothing like the disaster witch who’d derailed her entire life. “I know Zara would want me to go,” she said quietly.
Kashvi nodded. “I think she would, too. She’d want you to walk in there with your head high and your badass magic and show everyone exactly who you are.”
Ramona swallowed, blinking back tears. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Yes, you do.” Kashvi’s hand found hers. Squeezed. “You’re Ramona Greenbriar. Former professor. Current magic store employee. Accidental demon summoner. Curse-breaker. Coven leader.” She paused.
Ramona’s throat was tight. “That makes me sound like some stupid hero.”
“No, it makes you sound like a motherfucking survivor,” Kashvi said.
Ramona’s resolve crumpled. The tears flowed freely now, and she let Kashvi embrace her, crying into her shoulder for a quiet few moments. “I feel like half of me is gone,” she confessed through sobs.
“Then we’ll be the other half. Until you figure out how to be whole on your own again,” Kashvi said, petting her hair. “That’s what covens do, right? Hold each other up when we can’t stand on our own.”
Ramona pulled back, wiping at her face. “Is that what covens do?”
“I don’t know. We’re making this up as we go.” Kashvi’s smile widened, her thumbs brushing a few tears off Ramona’s cheeks. “But that sounds good, doesn’t it?”
In the emptiness of Ramona’s chest, she could have sworn she felt a tiny flutter of hope and love and gratitude. “Yeah,” she murmured.
There was a knock on the door. Felix stuck his head in. Gerald was perched on his shoulder, wearing a tiny purple bow tie that matched Ramona’s hair.
