Ivywood Hollow has a reputation for its calm, restorative atmosphere. This time of year, one could reliably expect upon entering its doors to be greeted with a fire gently crackling in the hearth, soothing classical music playing in the background, and divine scents emanating from the kitchen.
Given that’s what I had come to expect, it was a little jarring to step into the B&B just in time to hear a loud crash and someone shouting, “Slam that door one more time, Constance! Just one more! You won’t like what I do!”
I quickly pulled my scarf from my neck and deposited it on the coat rack. The shouting had come from Nora on the second floor, but I wanted to get a little more information about what was going on up there before I stuck my nose in it.
I followed the sweet smells coming from the kitchen. There I found my other aunt happily tinkering away, sifting flour, with noise-canceling headphones nestled in the masses of her curly blond hair.
“Izzy?”
No answer.
I walked over to the island. “Izzy?”
Still nothing. I reached out and touched her arm.
She let out a shout and dropped her sifter into the flour, sending a cloud of powder up into the air. She placed one hand on her chest and pulled off her headphones with the other. “Darling, you startled me.”
“Sorry,” I said with a chuckle. “Those are some good headphones you have there.”
“They’re like magic. Maybe even better. And thank the stars for that,” she said. “It has been quite the day.”
“You’ve been cooking up a storm I see.”
She sighed and looked around at all the dishes she had going. “Truth be told, I miss having guests. Cooking is such a simple way to make people happy, and everything is so complicated right now.”
Wasn’t that the truth. “Speaking of which, I heard a door slam. Is everything all right up there?” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.
“It’s Constance. At least we think it’s Constance.”
“You think what is Constance?”
“Something or someone has been slamming the closet door at the top of the stairs open and shut all day. The headphones are enough for me to block it out, but Nora is having a little more trouble with the situation.”
We both jumped as another slam came from the floor above. “That is unpleasant.”
My aunt shot me a tired look. “We’ve been waiting for you to get home. We’re both at our wits’ end. I know you’re not currently using your powers, but we thought maybe you could help?”
I sighed and sat myself down at the table by the stone hearth that also served as an oven. “Izzy, I love you, but I really don’t want to go over this again.”
“Neither do I,” she said, putting her hands up in surrender. “I’m not asking you to practice any magic. But you know ghosts better than either of us. We thought you might have a suggestion of how to—”
The door slammed again. It was quickly followed by what sounded an awful lot like a battle cry from Nora.
“Well, Constance is obviously trying to get our attention,” I said. “You two did look in the closet, right? Was she trying to lead you to a clue? Something maybe the killer left behind?”
Izzy gave me a withering look, which really spoke to how tired she was. “Of course we did. There’s nothing in there but extra linens.”
“You’re sure?”
“We took everything out. There’s nothing there.”
I planted my chin on my hand. “I don’t know, then. Moving things around usually takes a lot out of a ghost. Most aren’t able to do it at all. She should be close to tiring herself out.”
The door slammed again.
Not tired enough.
Izzy closed her eyes and took a breath.
I chuckled. “That really is annoying. Did you try talking to her?”
“Brynn,” Izzy said, wiping her hands on her apron, “you know we can’t talk to ghosts.”
“Of course you can.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just because you can’t see or hear spirits doesn’t mean you can’t talk to them. Constance?” I called out. “Slam the door twice if you want us to know there’s something about the closet we need to pay attention to.”
The door slammed twice.
“Right. Message received. The closet is important. We’ll need to think about it, okay?”
Izzy and I waited. Only silence followed.
“Oh, darling, that might have worked. You deserve a reward.” Izzy hurried over to the stove. “I was thinking earlier maybe you’d like some hot chocolate when you got home. It’s blustery out there.”
I smiled with happy anticipation. “I knew I smelled something sweet.”
“Besides, we should talk about last night.”
The smile dropped from my face. “Izzy, I really can’t go another round.”
“No. No. I don’t want to talk about your situation. I want to talk about Nora.”
I took a long slow sip of the hot chocolate. Wow, it was good. Thick, but not too thick. Rich. Silky.
Suddenly I was feeling so much love. Love for my home. My aunts. The kitchen. Chocolate.
Wait a minute.
I looked up at my aunt. “Did you just spell me?”
Izzy wrinkled her nose and shrugged.
“Rude.” I took another sip. “And you don’t need to do that. I’m not mad at Nora. I know this whole situation is upsetting for her. It’s upsetting for all of us.” I then told Izzy everything Williams had told me about the town meeting.
Izzy sat down across from me. “It’s even more important we talk, then.”
I frowned. “So, we’re having an official talk?”
“I was hoping to give you a little perspective about why Nora behaved the way she did last night,” she said, sinking back into her chair. “Now, I know your aunt comes off as this supremely confident, proud woman, and she is, for the most part, but that wasn’t always the case.”
I took another sip of my cocoa.
“I don’t know if you know this, but when we were little, Nora had a really difficult time in school.”
I pulled the mug from my lips. “Really?”
“She was painfully shy. I mean, we all knew we were different from the other children, but Nora felt it more deeply than the rest of us. And kids being kids, they picked up on that.”
“I can’t imagine Nora took that very well.”
Izzy looked down at the mug cupped in her hands. “For a long time, she just endured it. She always sat alone at lunches. She walked the yard by herself at recess. I think for a few years she never spoke a word in school at all, and no one even noticed.”
I suddenly had a mental snapshot of Nora eating her lunch at a table by herself dressed in black, a red bun perched on top of her head.
“Your mother did her best to help,” Izzy said, meeting my eye. “She was the oldest, of course, and very popular. She had a quality that drew others to her. But she was in high school by that time, so she could only do so much. Gideon and I tried to help, but we were young too. Self-involved. We should have done more.”
“Huh, somehow I thought Gideon would have been the loner.”
Izzy laughed. “Oh no, all the girls loved Gideon. They were drawn to his tragic poetic side. His fan club followed him everywhere.”
I smiled.
“Anyway, for a while there I think Nora thought about giving up her powers altogether.” She peeked up from her mug at me. “She didn’t talk about it much. But we all suspected.”
“What happened?”
“I think when it came right down to it, she decided she had to be herself.”
“Izzy, that’s not fair. I’m still me.”
My aunt held up a hand. “I’m really not drawing comparisons. This is about Nora. Anyway, in order to get through it, your aunt had to develop a thick skin. Armor, really. And a certain bravado. All that nonsense about the Warren witches being the best witches?” Izzy smiled and shook her head. “That’s part of it.”
“Wait, you mean we’re not the best witches?”
Izzy laughed. “Well, of course we are, but that doesn’t mean we should be bragging about it.” My aunt’s laughter ended with a sigh. “But in all seriousness, it was a good thing, for the most part, because it meant Nora finally had a way of engaging with others. And most people do find her fiery nature amusing.”
“But sometimes she goes too far.”
Izzy nodded. “Especially when she feels vulnerable.”
I put my mug down on the table. “And she feels very vulnerable right now.”
“But not just about Constance,” Izzy said, reaching for my hand. “You know how much Nora loves you. You know how much we both love you.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t meet her gaze.
“No matter how hard you to try to hide it, we know you’re in pain. My way has always been to be patient, hoping one day you’ll open up to us, so we can help you through it.”
I bristled but kept my mouth shut. There was no getting through losing my husband.
“But when it comes to your aunt. It is killing her that she’s not able to fix you.”
“She can’t fix me.”
“I know. I know. It’s the wrong word.” She looked away. “You should have seen her back when Gideon first retreated to the attic. I thought they might kill each other. It was only when your uncle threatened to leave and hole himself up somewhere we couldn’t find him that Nora finally backed off. To be honest, we’re both a little scared you’re doing something similar. Hiding away from life, so it can’t hurt you. And we don’t know how to stop it.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Now, with all that’s happened, I think Nora is feeling a lot like that little girl again with the town against her. But it’s even more than that.” The corners of Izzy’s eyes creased with worry.
“I’m not following.”
Izzy picked at the edge of the table. “It’s just, I think Nora has always feared one day she might end up like Constance. Not murdered, obviously. But alone.”
“What? That’s ridiculous.”
“I know that. And you know that. But Constance was guarded, abrasive. She drove everyone away. And I think Nora fears one day she might do the same thing.”
“That could never happen. Constance was in a class all her own. Yes, Nora has her moments, but I wouldn’t call her abrasive.”
Suddenly the closet door banged again upstairs. It was quickly followed by Nora shouting, “Constance! Murdered or not, I swear to every power in this plane of existence, I will shatter your soul into a million tiny pieces, scatter them across the universe, then set each and every one of them on fire for a thousand years if you so much as touch that closet one more time!”
I looked at Izzy. “She can’t do that, can she? That’s not like a thing, right?”
“No. No. No,” Izzy said, chuckling and shaking her head. She then stopped suddenly, as though a thought had occurred to her. A second later she chuckled again. “No.” She finished with a nod as though she had finally convinced herself.
“Good,” I said with my own nod. “What were we talking about again?”
“We were saying Nora really isn’t that difficult. Soul-shattering threats aside.”
“Of course.”
“And your aunt is right about one thing,” Izzy said, tapping the table lightly with her finger.
“What’s that?”
She locked me in her gaze. “It won’t be easy letting your powers go.”
I looked away this time. “Everything’s under control.”
“But if that changes. If you do start experiencing magic that isn’t quite of your making, you will tell me, right? Because that could be very dangerous. For all of us.”
“If things get out of control, I promise I will tell you.”
“Okay,” Izzy said, patting my hand then getting to her feet. “I still can’t believe this is all happening. If I had just done the warding spell correctly, that mallet never would have been planted in the greenhouse, and we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Are you sure it’s your fault? Is it possible someone was able to get around it?”
Izzy frowned. “It was a fairly basic spell, but no. In order to get past it one would need to have bathed themselves in, let’s see, skullcap, mandrake, crushed eggshells, and graveyard dirt. Oh! Or the essential oil from a black quartz flower. But given that Nora is the only one to grow them around here, it must have been my fault.”
“Izzy, mistakes happen. It wasn’t intentional.”
“Well, perhaps, but the pull and muzzle spell was intentional. And I do need to apologize for that. I may be her big sister, but she’s an adult.”
I didn’t say anything.
“And you need to apologize too.”
“What for?”
Izzy looked at me.
I rolled my eyes like I was a teenager again. “Fine. I probably should have told you guys I wasn’t practicing magic instead of hiding it.” I knew there had been more to the hot chocolate. She had this planned from the start.
“Wonderful!” Izzy said, clapping her hands together. “So, I don’t think Nora will be down tonight, but tomorrow I’ll make a special family dinner for us, and we can both apologize.”
I didn’t answer, but my feelings on the subject were made clear by my expression because Izzy said, “Careful, your face might freeze that way.”
My eyes widened. We both knew she had a spell for that.
I forced a smile to my lips.
“That’s better.”
Izzy’s hot chocolate had some lingering effects because when I went back up to my loft in the old carriage house, I changed into my coziest flannel pajamas, then pulled out a box of old photos from underneath my bed.
Rain gently tapped at the windows as I placed the box on my quilt and settled myself in behind it. I lifted off the lid and picked up the first photo lying on top of the stack.
I smiled. It was a Halloween shot. I must have been only five or six, and I was dressed up as Snow White. I remember Nora desperately trying to convince me to choose another costume that year—something with more power—but I was determined to be a princess. She stood behind me in the photo dressed as the Evil Queen, and Izzy was wearing an enormous apple costume. I brought the photo up a little closer to take in the details of my dress. Izzy had bought it at a department store, but Nora had swept it away from her the moment she’d brought it home. I was furious at the time because I thought she was getting rid of it, but it turned out she had other plans. The next morning, when I woke up, the dress was on my bed, except all the cheap fabric had been replaced with real velvet and silk and the plastic beads had been swapped out with semi-precious stones. It was ridiculous given my age, but for that one night I felt like a real princess.
I placed the photo on the bed and reached for another. It was a black-and-white shot of all the Warren siblings. My mother was sitting on the hood of her VW Bug, laughing, her long dark hair trailing down her back. Gideon was behind the wheel pretending to drive, while Izzy stood balancing, arms out, perched on the front bumper. Separate from the three of them stood a very serious-looking Nora with her hair tied back in two braids, hands folded at her waist. I smiled again. The four of them looked like trouble. Of the very best sort.
The next photo was a shot of me and Nora in the garden. She was wearing a long sundress and wide-brimmed hat. She looked quite elegant despite the fact that she was pushing me in a wheelbarrow. Suddenly I could remember that day as clearly as though it had just happened. We spent the entire morning outside. Nora taught me how to make cat’s cradles with string between our fingers and a witchy version of patty-cake that ended with sparks flying when we clapped. She had, of course, gone on about Warren witches being the very best witches, and—oh! She taught me a rhyme I had to promise to never ever use on my classmates unless they really deserved it. How did it go? Bumps and lumps, stumbles divine, trip up anyone from the—enter a name—bloodline. It was a harmless spell really. The intention behind it was meant to be more playful than hurtful, which was probably why I had dared to use it on Nora when she went to get us some lemonade.
I laughed a little at the memory, Nora looking so sophisticated in her summer dress, tripping on the flagstone path to the house. I thought I was in for it when she whirled back around. But instead of scolding me, she scooped me up in her arms and spun me around, saying, You, Brynn Warren, are my kind of witch.
I sighed. Oh Nora.
How could she ever think she’d end up alone like Constance?
The thought made me wonder about the Graves family. What was life like for them before their mother died? Were they happy? United? I knew what grief could do. The destruction it could leave in its wake. But even after her mother’s death, Constance had stepped in to raise her siblings. She must have loved them to take on that kind of responsibility at such a young age. Everyone, including me, had been so focused on how bitter Constance had become, but she hadn’t been born that way. Life had changed her. And I suspected from what John had told me, her siblings had done something to bring about that change.
I suddenly wanted to know who Constance was before she and her family had fallen out. Roxie said she had been involved in community theatre before her father became ill. Maybe I could go to the library to see if there were any pictures in the archived copies of the Evenfall Gazette. I needed to know more about who Constance was. Maybe it would help me figure out who would be driven to take her life.
I put the photo I was holding down on the quilt with the others and absentmindedly reached for another from the box.
The moment I touched it my body went cold.
No. This shouldn’t be here.
I had separated all those pictures. Put them away in another box.
I almost tossed the photo away, but the pull to look was too strong. I knew how much it would hurt to see it again, and normally I would have had the strength to turn away, but tonight the desire to see him was stronger than my need to protect myself from the pain.
I leaned back against the headboard of my bed, bringing my knees up close to my chest. I rested the photo against my legs.
Adam.