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“She knew my name. She put it in her will. Whatever her reasons were, she chose me.”

And Goddess, I hadn't realized until this second how much that means.

A woman I never even knew existed chose me.

Not Melida.

Not the more powerful Witch.

Not the golden child.

Me.

Maybe Margarita knew exactly what she was doing. Maybe she knew what it was like to be the extra sister. Maybe she understood that sometimes the only way to find out who you are is to get far enough away from everyone who's spent your whole life telling you who you aren't.

“Well, she made a mistake,” Mother says.

Something inside me finally snaps.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, Mother. You made a mistake.”

My heart pounds.

“You spent thirty-eight years teaching me that everything I had could be taken away the second Melida wanted it.”

“That is not⁠—”

“Well, this can't.”

I look toward the window. At the garden I've worked so hard to restore.

At the sign out front bearing the name Aunt Margarita gave this place.

“This is mine, and she can't have it.”

“Belinda!”

“No.”

“Belinda Ramos, you listen here⁠—”

I hit END on the phone’s screen.

The silence afterward is deafening.

I stare at it. My phone. And I think abut what I just did.

Holy shit.

I just hung up on my mother. My entire body starts shaking. Not dainty trembling either.

My knees are actually knocking.

“Okay.”