The next week passed in a blur. I worked six days straight at the Tea Exchange alongside of Ms. MacAllister. Despite her earlier questions about holistic treatments and herbal medicines, my job was pretty straightforward: work the register, keep an eye on the door, and measure out tea leaves by the ounce. The shop wasn’t that busy—Ms. MacAllister had been managing for years by herself—so I spent most of my shifts making work for myself. I organized the little area behind the cash register, arranged the spices alphabetically, and even spent a few hours flipping through various books on herbs that Ms. MacAllister kept in a stack on the counter. I’d managed to slip the little figurine onto the shelf in the back room on my first day; hopefully she hadn’t even noticed that it was missing.
Charlie and Ransom spent their days out at the ruins, searching for a spell to open the ring. Ransom had suggested that they take the ring with them, just in case they found something that would work, but I’d been hesitant to let it out of my sight. It might have been hers at one point, but it was mine now, and I was going to be there when they opened it.
On Monday afternoon, Ms. MacAllister poked her head through the beaded curtain that separated the main room from the back area and swept an assessing gaze around the shop, over the dusted shelves and re-arranged jars holding teas and spices. “You’ve done a lovely job in here, Amelia,” she said. “It looks brand new.”
I smiled at her. “I liked doing it,” I said, and I was surprised to realize that I meant it. Being in the shop had given me something to focus on besides Marin.
“Good.” She pulled a key ring with a set of keys and a bright blue fob from her pocket and set it on the counter between us. “I wanted you to have this, just in case you ever have to open or close when I’m not here.” She flipped the little fob over. “The alarm codes are written on the back of this.”
“I…” I didn’t know what to say. “Are you sure?”
She lifted her eyebrow. It was amazing how many of Charlie’s mannerisms I’d seen in his grandmother over the last few days. She looked so much like him at that moment that I relaxed. “I mean, thank you,” I said.
The ghost of a smile flickered across her face, gone almost as soon as it had appeared. “Are you going to the vigil tonight?”
The mayor and his family had organized a town-wide candlelight vigil in memory of Yvette, Brit, and Erin to be held on the Green at dusk. My mom and uncle were going, but I wasn’t so sure about myself. On the one hand, I’d known all three girls, especially Erin. But I wasn’t sure how Charlie would feel if I went, or if Ben would cause another scene. I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Charlie and I will be there, if you and your mother would like to ride with us,” Ms. MacAllister said.
“Is that the best idea?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Charlie had mostly kept to himself since the night of the fight.
“You know that my grandson has nothing to hide,” she said, each word launched like a missile through the air. “And neither do I. We’re going to pay our respects to those poor girls.”
“It’s not about what I think,” I said. “It’s about what they think.”
She sighed. “If I gave one fig about what some of those people thought about me and my family, I’d never leave my house. Our friends know the truth. The rest of the town doesn’t matter.”
“But—”
“I know you want what’s best for Charlie, Amelia. Believe me, I do. But I’ve been alive a lot longer than you have, and I’ve seen them in a frenzy like this before. They’ll talk about us if we’re there, but they’ll talk louder if we aren’t.” She crossed her arms and stared out of the shop window, watching people stroll along the waterfront. “He’s been so happy with you, honey. Even with all this other business happening around him, he’s been happy.”
My cheeks warmed, and once again, I was at a loss for words. I tucked the new keys into my pocket and stood up from the stool. “I’ll be there tonight,” I said, finally. “If he needs me, I’ll be there.”
***
Dusk settled over Asylum, deep grays and purples and blues wrapping around its corners, filling the empty alleyways and assuming some of the somberness that had filled our tiny town over the last few weeks. By the time Mom parked her Camry in front of the Historical Society, it seemed like half the town was already there, a mass of black-clad people filling the Green, clutching thin white candles in their hands.
Charlie had been silent for the entire drive into town, his forehead pressed against the window, his hand wrapped around mine. Mom flipped down the mirrored visor in front of her seat and checked her lipstick—a dark red, like blood. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, and she gave me a quick smile. I thought she meant for it to be encouraging, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. The last time there had been a vigil on the Green, it had been for my brother. I had still been in the hospital, and she’d gone alone.
I wondered if she was thinking about that too.
“Ready?” she asked.
Beside me, Charlie sighed and pushed up his new pair of glasses, almost identical to his old ones. The bruises across his face from his fight with Ben had faded from vivid purple to a dull yellow, but dark circles stretched under his eyes, making him look tired and wan. I wanted to give him a hug and promise him that everything would be okay, that we weren’t walking into a disaster. But every fiber of my being was telling me otherwise.
Ms. MacAllister was already climbing out of the passenger door. She adjusted her wide-brimmed hat and threw her black-tasseled scarf over her shoulder. “It won’t get any easier if you wait,” she called back to us.
“Come on,” I whispered. “I’ll be right beside you.”
He squeezed my fingers. “It’s not me I’m worried about,” he said. “I don’t care what they think about me.”
“I don’t care either,” I told him.
He nodded once. “Then let’s do this.”
Late-August humidity wrapped around me like a blanket the moment I stepped out of the car. I started sweating immediately—I could feel my hair already starting to escape from my braid in little wisps that curled around my forehead.
“You’re going to overheat in that sweater.” My mother tugged at the thin sleeve of my black cardigan. “Leave it in the car.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said. The black linen sundress I wore was strapless and would put my scar on full display. The sweater was my only armor against people’s stares. “It’s staying on.”
“Suit yourself,” Mom said. She looked cool and effortless in her black sleeveless shift dress, her blond hair curling around her chin. She turned to Ms. MacAllister. “I have something I’d like to show you quickly at the Society, Lilian. It’ll just take a minute.”
Ms. MacAllister nodded, keeping one hand on her hat. “We’ll find you two later, all right? We’ll meet back here when it’s over.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Charlie said. I would have killed to know what he was thinking right then. I was a jumbled mess inside, full of dread and anxiety, waiting for something bad to happen. He stepped up beside me and grabbed my hand.
“We’re in this together,” he said. “They can’t hurt us.”
I took a deep breath and wrapped my fingers around my necklace.
We’d see about that.
***
Leah was waiting for us on the edge of the crowd. She caught sight of us and waved her hand in the air. “Charlie! Amelia! Over here!”
Several people turned to look at her—at us—with disapproval written all over their faces. A low murmur swept through those closest to us. I thought about giving them all the finger, but Charlie didn’t seem to notice.
Or care.
“Hey,” she said when we joined her. “Ben and his gang of Neanderthals are handing out all of the candles, so I sent Ransom to grab them for us.”
“Good call,” I said. “We don’t want to give him a reason to cause a scene.”
“Exactly.” She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and turned to Charlie. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine,” he said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I don’t like these sorts of things, but Grams thought it’d be best if we came.”
“Your Grams is right,” Ransom said, appearing behind Leah. He held four white candles in his hand, each shoved through the center of a thin cardboard disc. “The sheriff ruled them all suicides. Everyone with a brain knows you didn’t do this.”
I took the candle Ransom offered, the wax cool and smooth against my hand. “I hope you’re right,” I said.
Leah shook her head. “I don’t think it’s personal, Charlie. It’s just that—”
“I’m a MacAllister,” Charlie interrupted. “Yeah. I got that loud and clear.”
Leah opened her mouth and closed it again without speaking, crimson spilling across her cheeks.
Ransom slid his gaze between them, his eyebrows quirked with amusement. “Amelia,” he said, his voice low, “did lover-boy here tell you that we figured out a spell today?”
My hand flew to my necklace. “Don’t tease me, Ransom.”
“He’s not,” Charlie said. “It takes a lot out of me, but I think I can manage to do it.”
“He’s being modest,” Ransom said. “Your boy split a tree in half.”
Leah let out a low whistle. “Is that why you look so rough, Blue?” she asked. “You’re turning into a human chainsaw?”
Before he could respond, a muffled thump came through the speakers set up near the gazebo, where Mayor Liancourt stood beside his wife. Three portraits, blown up to poster size, were set on easels behind him.
He tapped the microphone again, and cleared his throat. “Can everyone hear me?” he asked.
“First, I want to thank all of you for coming tonight. We gather as a community to remember the three beautiful young women that we lost this summer, to grieve, to mourn, and ultimately, to celebrate their lives, cut short too soon. My niece Britney D’Autrement, Yvette Montrose, and Erin West will be missed, not just by their families, but by all of us here in Asylum.” He paused and shuffled the notecards in his hands. Beside him, Mrs. Liancourt dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “We also gather tonight to raise awareness for suicide prevention. I’ve partnered with the Sheriff’s Department and with the health officials in Bradford County to launch an awareness campaign. For those of you out there struggling, especially our young people: you are not alone. Together, we can fill this darkness with light.”
He lit his candle with the match his wife held out for him and stepped off the gazebo steps to light the candle of the woman standing before him—his sister. Brit’s mother. Tears threatened the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away before they could fall.
Charlie slipped his arm around my shoulder. Was he thinking about Becca, his ex-girlfriend? Her death, so similar to theirs, had happened over a thousand miles away from here. I leaned into him despite the sticky heat and pressed my face against his chest.
We lit the candles wordlessly, one flame passed to another as full dark settled over the Green. Charlie tipped his candle towards mine, the two wicks meeting as the flame flickered between them. Leah waited on my other side and gave me a small, sad smile as I tilted my candle to hers.
I couldn’t help but wonder who would be next.