‘You can’t be,’ I said quietly. Tears smarted in my eyes. ‘You can’t be Noah.’
Finn exhaled slowly, clearly struggling to keep control over his emotions. The room grew sharp with static, and I could feel the magic coalescing around him.
‘Is everything okay in here, loves?’ Rosie appeared in the doorway. Mom and Tiff stood at a distance, but peering curiously over her shoulder. When I raised an eyebrow, both Mom and Tiff pretended to be discussing the state of the pizzas in the oven.
‘Everything’s fine,’ said Finn, picking up his guitar and strumming it idly. Magic shimmered at his fingertips as he pulled the notes from its body. He fumbled a chord. ‘Actually, no, it’s not fine at all. Because Molly has just spent weeks stringing me along like I’m some kind of fool, only to cast me aside forNoah, of all people. But that’s our Molly, isn’t it. You’ll probably change your mind next week, anyway.’
I blinked. Where had this cruelty come from? Finn could be hot-headed sometimes, but he was never cruel.
Although Ihadjust broken his heart.
‘You need to calm down, Finn,’ said Rosie, her tone measured. I could feel the low hum of magic beneath her words. The soothing scent of lavender filled the room.
‘Are you trying tocharmme, Mom? Seriously?’ Finn’s eyes, usually that glorious sparkling blue, flashed something darker. ‘Sorry that someone might openlyfeelsomething for a change.’
Rosie held up her hands placatingly. ‘All feelings are welcome in this house, Finn.’
Finn gave a sharp laugh. ‘That’s a lie. Ever since Dad died, you’ve been playing happy families, pretending that everything is as it should be. All these shitty renovations and crafts, trying to distract yourself from the giant hole in our lives? But everything isfucked, Mom. So I’m allowed to play Dad’s guitar now. But you know what would be a better consolation prize?Dad.’
‘Finn,’ I said, hoping he was done, because the hurt on Rosie’s face was so palpable that my stomach twisted at the sight.
‘You’re not being fair, Finn,’ said Rosie. ‘Everyone grieves differently, and I’ve given you and your brother your space to do that in your own ways. I’m hurting as well. Every day is a struggle without Charlie. And even though I try to talk to him on the winds, capture hints of his spirit when the moon is just right, he fades a little more every day.’
‘Iknowthat,’ shouted Finn. ‘And I also know you’ve been talking to Peta – Paulie told me all about it. You’re planning on selling the house right out from underneath us. It’s like you can’t be rid of him fast enough.’
Magic sparked from his fingertips, whipping around him.
I took a step back. I hadn’t seen Finn properly upset before, but I did know that, unlike Noah, he was always extremely open with his emotions. And magic and emotions went hand in hand. I was used to Finn magically making flowers bloom or adding an extra scoop of ice cream to a towering cone or turning up the music at a neighbouring house party. I’d never seen him like this.
‘I feel like I’m being used,’ he shouted. ‘Byyou, Mom, who just wants everything to be perfect. And byyou, Molly, who just wanted some fun while you were trying to figure out the boring truth of what you actually want.’
‘Finn—’ I said again.
‘Don’t,’ he shouted. As he did, the window behind him swung open. The swirling magical clouds of the storm sweptinto the music room, spangling it an eerie gold-tinged purple and lighting up the guitars on the wall and the effects pedals in their tidy display cases.
My hair rose up from the electricity of it all; my skin tingled. Rain spilled in, pouring over the instruments and drenching the rows and rows of records that Charlie had spent his life collecting, and which Finn had until now tried to save. Their cardboard sleeves crumpled instantly.
I could see the confusion on Finn’s face. The rage and the dismay and the grief, all fighting for supremacy. But then he succumbed to it.
An explosion of magic swept through, hitting the wall in a punch of hexed lightning. His beloved guitar glowed purple, swelling from the inside. Magical light crackled down its neck, making its strings gleam and the mother-of-pearl inlays on the fretboard glow. As though it had burned him, he flung it aside. Out it went, across the house and out into the inky night, which was now eerily calm.
The sound it made hitting the ground snapped us back into the moment, and we all hurried to the door to see whether the guitar could be salvaged. The beautiful instrument lay bent and in pieces on the lawn, slowly tilting in the mud that rose up beneath it.
I felt sick seeing its ruination.
I wasn’t the only one. Rosie put a calming hand on my shoulder. It was warm with her magic, and I could feel through my drenched shirt what she was trying to convey. The others gathered behind her. Across the yard, Noah stood in the door of his studio, staring in dismay at the shattered instrument as it filled with rain.
Finn stared down at the guitar like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was as though he’d emerged from a spell – and in a way, he had.
‘Finn?’ said Noah, stepping forward into the rain.
But Finn waved him off.
‘I did this,’ his voice quiet with disbelief. ‘All this time I’ve just been flinging my magic around, and this is the consequence.’
‘Finn,’ called Noah from the porch. ‘Let me help.’
‘No.’ Finn’s voice was firm, but his expression was broken. A stream of magic burst from his fingers, and the shattered guitar rose up, landing back in his hand. But there was no repairing it: the spell he’d used was too damaging. And he was in no state to try such a delicate spell. Breaking things was always so much easier than making them whole, as I was finding out.
