After a while, Dominic and Thorn picked me up from the hospital. We dropped Thorn off at a single-story home, where toys littered a small patch of front lawn, and then Dominic and I headed back home. When he stepped out of his truck, there was a screech overhead and his falcon fluttered down to greet him.

“Dagger wants a snack,” Dominic said with a tired smile. “I’ll be in the barn if you need anything.”

I looked into his eyes, sending him a silent message of thanks. He nodded, which seemed enough. For now.

Feeling strangely happy, I hurried to the house. Nona must have been watching for me because she rushed out, almost knocking Lillybelle off her favorite perch on a porch rail. “Oh, honey! How is your friend?”

“Alive.”

“Thank the heavens.”

“She’s going to make it, but it’ll take time before she’s well enough to go back to school,” I added.

“Poor child. Her troubles must run deep.”

“No troubles are worth killing yourself over. Why would she do something that dumb? Just because her boyfriend dumped her?”

“I’m sure it’s more than that. I’ve seen clients desperate to fill emptiness by clinging to someone else.”

“Like Evan,” I said with a frown.

“Your friend needs to love herself. With supportive people around, she’ll be all right.”

“I hope so.”

Nona gave me another hug. “I’m proud of you, honey.”

“I didn’t do anything special.”

“You followed your heart and used your gift to save that girl.”

“My gift?” I did a double take. “But you said I’d outgrown it.”

“For a while, I thought you had. You put on a good show and nearly convinced me. You’re the one who denied your ability.”

“Then you believe me?”

“I never really stopped, but I knew it was your choice whether you followed your talents. And I’m delighted you made the right decision.”

“Are you sure it’s the right one?” I asked. “I hear voices, see things that other people can’t, and get warnings that scare me. What kind of gift is that?”

“A precious one. Your ability isn’t for you—it’s for the world.” She looked deep into my eyes and added, “My darling Sabine—you are the gift.”

* * *

That night, a sharp noise jerked me out of a dream where my mother had grown into a giant and was chasing me around the barn, trying to stomp me with spiked, truck-sized boots.

Bolting up in my bed, I looked around expecting Mom to burst out from the shadows. I stared around my familiar room and drew comfort from the soft yellow glow of my smiley-faced nightlight. I didn’t need to check Nona’s dream interpretation book to understand my nightmare. Right before I’d gone to bed, Nona had delivered the bad news. My mother had called again, only instead of leaving a new message for me to ignore, she was coming to see me next week.

I’d rather be stomped by giant, spiked shoes.

But the dream wasn’t what had awakened me, I realized when I heard a sharp bang and cry from downstairs.

Putting on a robe, I hurried to Nona’s office and found the door wide open, a triangle of light slicing into the hall. My grandmother sat on the floor among a pile of papers with a terrified look on her face.

“I—I can’t find it,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Find what?” I sat beside her and gently took her hand.

“That’s the problem—I don’t know.”

“What’s going on? Nona, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring me, too.” She gave a brittle laugh and wiped her cheek. “I’ve been putting this off—telling you—but I can’t anymore.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will soon.” Papers scattered as she stood. “Follow me.”

There was something desperate and determined in her voice that stopped me from asking any more questions. Silently, I walked behind her as she stepped outside, passed the chicken pen, and entered the barn. She snapped on a light, then called upstairs to Dominic.

“Why are we here?” I whispered anxiously. “We’ll wake up Dominic.”

“That’s the idea.”

A door from the loft creaked open and Dominic’s tousled head peaked out. I could only see the top of his bare shoulders and a glimpse of dark shorts.

He only needed one look at Nona’s grim expression; then, he turned around and returned a moment later fully clothed. He opened the door in invitation, and Nona led me upstairs toward his apartment.

Dominic pulled up two chairs and gestured for us to sit, while he faced us on the edge of his rumpled bed. It felt odd to sit so close to him, and I scooted my chair back a few inches.

Nona clutched at the fabric of her terry-cloth robe and biting her lips. “Dominic, it happened again … only worse.”

“Are you okay?”

“That isn’t the issue right now. I have to be honest with both of you. What I’m going to tell you won’t be easy,” she said in a quavering voice.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Dominic said, his tone protective.

“I want to—while I still can.”

I looked at Nona. “Does this have to do with whatever you lost tonight?”

“That’s part of it. You’ve probably noticed that’s happened a lot, my forgetting or losing things. At first it was small episodes, missing keys or not calling back a client. Then tonight I panicked and started tearing apart my office.”

“What did you lose?” I asked.

“It’s not what I lost, but what I’m losing.” She lifted her shoulders and gave Dominic a steady, determined look. “Get the box.”

“But you told me never to—”

“Just get it for me,” she said firmly. “Please.”

Dominic’s jaw tightened stubbornly, but he didn’t argue. He rose and crossed the room, stopping before a wall portrait of a forest scene. Dominic lifted the picture and set it down, then pressed one hand against the wall where I saw the faint square outline of a hidden cupboard.

“Here,” Dominic said a bit angrily, withdrawing an antique silver box and handing it to Nona. “I hope you’re doing the right thing.”

“What is it—Pandora’s box?” I half-joked.

But no one laughed, and I sensed that my joke held a deep truth.

Nona didn’t open the box, instead reaching for my hand. “Sabine, there’s something I’ve been keeping from you.” I started to interrupt, but she put her hand up. “Let me say this before I lose my nerve. You see, I—I’m not well. It’s a genetic affliction. One that goes back nearly three hundred years.”

“Nona!” I choked out. “You’re not—”

“No, it isn’t fatal, but it might as well be,” she said bitterly. “I watched my great-aunt Letitia suffer from it, and by the time I learned there was a cure, she was beyond help.”

“So there’s a cure?” I asked hopefully.

“Yes. But—” Her voice quavered. “But it was lost during a dark period in our family history. One of our ancestors created a remedy, then had to hide it when she was accused of being a witch. Directions to the hiding place were divided between her four daughters, including a many-times great-grandmother of mine.”

“Is that what’s in the box?”

“No. But it’s a clue—and Dominic has been helping me figure it out.”

“Why him and not me?” I asked, fighting the hurt.

“You know that answer,” she replied with a pointed look. And I sagged in my chair, blaming myself for denying my gift for so long. Wasted time when I could have been helping Nona.

“Tonight I didn’t even remember going into my office,” she went on in a frightened voice. “It’s happening more and more, moments of my day becoming black holes. Moments, minutes, lost memories. Soon I may even forget you.”

I swallowed back tears, fighting to be brave for my grandmother, although my heart was breaking. I’d never been happier than these months living with her. I couldn’t lose that—lose her.

“What can I do to help?” I asked.

“Work with Dominic to find the remedy.”

“Him?” I shot a resentful glance at Dominic, then swallowed my pride and gave a slow nod. “Okay. How do I start?”

“With this.”

She lifted the ornate silver box and placed it gently in my arms.

“Everything you need is inside. Go ahead—open it.”