Do I deserve it?I opt not to answer my own question.
One of my coworkers attempts small talk. “Any plans this weekend, Minerva?”
I lean back in my chair.Hoping to kick out a devil; you know, the usual.“Me and whatever book I decide to pick up.”
“Oh, how exciting!”
He’s not trying to be patronizing, I remind myself. I sip at my coffee, hoping I’ll choke on it and get sent home.
“I’m going to this gala hosted by the le Fays.”
So much forhopingI’d choke. As soon as that name comes out his mouth, I inadvertently gasp, the lukewarm coffee filling my windpipe. I cough, and everyone in the room looks at me like I’m doing a magic trick.
Someone pats me on the back. “I’m fine,” I gag. “Just–down the wrong pipe.” I swallow nothing, trying to push down the tightness in my throat. “You were saying?” I ask, my voice straining.
“It’s this art gala being hosted by Guine le Fay. She throws one every year to raise money for some of the city's galleries and museums.”
“Big philanthropist?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t notice me scowling.
“Very much so. I wouldn’t be surprised if MOCAD names a gallery after her–or at least a plaque.”
An art gallery funded by literal blood money.
I fail to pay attention in the meeting. I don’t think about what coffee shop or bookstore I’ll hit up for lunch. Over and over my mind taunts:Guine le Fay, philanthropist; Guine le Fay, kindly philanthropist…Which turns into:Arthur le Fay funds the arts in blood; Arthur le Fay funds the arts in fucking blood.
When the meeting ends, I’m the first out of the room. I grab my tote bag from my desk and decide to take an early lunch. I open up my phone, my mind too hazy with hate to remember what options are even in the area. There’s a text from Amber.
Hey could you stop by the shop today? Whenever you’re free.
I’m free now.
Oh shit, really? Aren’t you at work?
Not anymore I’m not.
I grab the bus that will take me to Lucky Witch and try mindlessly scrolling on my phone. But I keep opening up my text conversations with Amber, wishing she’d stuck around yesterday, stayed for dinner or helped me find Rosier. She would have gotten a kick out of Leaf. Or maybe she would have rolled her eyes and called me impulsive like Kamsa. But at least she would have been there.
At the shop, I take a second to appreciate the sound of the silver bell tied to the door. Silver is a protective metal, especially against other supernaturals. Maybe I should buy a little silver bell for Leaf and see how it would affect Rosier.
I take a deep breath, smelling sandalwood and agarwood burning. “I’m here,” I announce.
Amber, standing behind the counter, quirks her brow. “Do we need to make this quick?”
“Nope. I don’t think I’m going back to work today.”
“You’ve never played hooky a day in your life. Not in high school, not in middle school…”
“Well, that changes today.” I set my tote bag down on the floor under the front counter. “So, what did you find out?”
“It’s been less than twenty-four hours, so jack shit.” She plays with one of her pastel braids, running her fingers along it as if trying to smooth it down. She’s not looking at me.
“Well, you found something out, right?”
“I think it’s time I tell you the truth, even if that’s not what your Mom wanted.”
The sweet smell and comforting familiarity of the shop is gone, dwarfed by this secret I didn’t know about ‘til this moment. Something my Mom didn’t want me to know… Somethingotherthan who my Father is.
“Minnie, your family is cursed.”
