I chuckle. “A homeless woman dies and haunts a yoga studio? What’s that about?”
“Back in the nineties, that studio was the Emberwood soup kitchen. It’s a place of comfort for her.”
“Does she realize it’s not a soup kitchen anymore?”
Mom tilts her head to the side as she considers. “Maybe on the rarest of good days. Most loopers are simply replaying their last day. They see things as they remember them. That’s why it’s important not to disturb their loop. It upsets them.”
I jot that down, thankful to have her here to help me. “Is it better to let them pass than for them to loop endlessly?”
“Better for whom?” She glances over at me and smiles. “If a ghost is living their best life, that’s the work of the goddess. We step in only if they’re troubled or dangerous.”
I get that. “Lizzy was so relieved to know her pups were taken care of. Her crossing over was really peaceful. Kind of beautiful, too.”
Mom smiles. “It’s always a blessing when that’s the case. Sadly, anger, fear, or unfinished business aren’t always so easy to appease. Strong emotions can tie ghosts to a purpose, and that can be good or bad. Still, you gave Lizzy peace, so that’s a win.”
I pause, the subtext of her words settling over me. "I've been so grateful to have you back, Mom. I hadn't really thought about what it’s costing you to be here. Are you all right?”
Her hands still over the mortar and pestle. “It’s a little different for me. I chose to bind myself to this plane.”
“But spirits aren't meant to linger. Aren’t witches meant to join the ancestral powers and become part of the current that guides our bloodline forward?"
“We are.” She sets down the pestle with careful precision. I watch her profile, cataloging the subtle signs I've been ignoring. The way her edges sometimes blur. How she drifts when she thinks no one is watching, her gaze distant.
My throat tightens. "Do you need to move on?"
The question hangs between us, terrifying in its implications. I just got her back. The thought of losing her again—of watching her fade the way Lizzy did—makes my chest constrict.
Mom turns to face me fully, and her blue eyes, so much like mine, are fierce with determination.
“I’m not going anywhere, Poppy. I have no intention of moving on. Not until everything is right in this family.”
“But if you’re suffering…”
“I suffer because Violet and Lily were taken from our home. I suffer that because of me, a major demon forced you into a blood-bound contract. And I suffer because the Hallowind bloodline needs to be cleansed of the demon mark that resulted from my workings.”
The workings that Laurel sabotaged.“I hate that you blame yourself for all that, Mom. It wasn't your fault.”
"Wasn't it?" She returns to her herbs, but her movements are sharper now. “I made choices, Poppy. I thought I was protecting you girls, protecting our family's legacy. Instead, I bound you to something dark and terrible."
"You were trying to save us."
"Trying isn't good enough when the cost is the souls of your daughters." She stops, shoulders sagging. "I won't leave you to fix my mistakes alone. I won't abandon you again—not until I know you're truly safe."
I move closer, leaning into her for a hug. “You didn't abandon us the first time. You died.”
“And left you unprepared for everything that came after.” She runs a gentle hand down the back of my hair and my back. “I know you feel like the weight of the world is on you, petal, but I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere until you’re safe and your sisters are home.”
And knowing that makes things a little less overwhelming.
It's late afternoon on Thursday when Asher, Orion, and I make our way down Main Street on a supply run for Mom. The light of the sinking sun slants between the two-and-three-story buildings spaced out along the historic town center, casting long shadows across the sidewalk.
The spell she and Sebastian are working on requires rare ingredients and likely will need to be outsourced to find. I'm not sure what they're working on, but odds are it has something to do with finding my sisters or breaking me from my blood bond to Tharuzel.
Whatever their goal, given time and the right ingredients, I'm sure they'll succeed.
As we go, Asher tells the story about a show Samoyed he used to take care of that ate an entire pizza off a porch, and the ensuing chaos of trying to bathe him and get him back to his parents without being covered in pizza sauce.
Which was a total fail.
