Lily

49

Returning to Crescent Hill was the worst thing that had happened in my life, after K2. I had really believed for a moment that we had made it and were free, so being marched into the car with the police officers watching and sniggering had been like walking into prison without having done anything wrong. My belly ached all the way, and when the car door slammed shut behind me, all I wanted to do was cry.

I didn’t, though. I was too angry, and I didn’t want Aunt Clara to know how broken and upset I felt. She would probably have loved it, and I didn’t think she deserved any joy. All the way back to Crescent Hill, I seethed with angry disappointment. Violet and I had been so close, and our time at the lake house had been so wonderful—magical even—which only made it worse to be caught again. All the fear and worry came rushing back as soon as I saw Aunt Clara’s face—smiling like the cat that ate the canary—and I hadn’t known before then how amazing it had felt not to have to worry about Violet’s health, or the angry ghosts, or if we would get murdered, even if only for a single night.

Walking up the broken steps and into the hall at Crescent Hill had been horrendous. I nodded a greeting to the taxidermy bear, feeling like one of the stuffed creatures now, doomed to stay at Crescent Hill forever—even after I died. Violet, too, looked sad and thoughtful as we carried our things inside. Aunt Clara hadn’t even bothered with the suitcases but had thrown everything in the trunk of the car, next to the ugly black fur coat she insisted on bringing everywhere, even in hot, humid summer.

Dina’s smile was sad, too, when she came out to greet us. Her flames were golden and pink. Even though she had fresh rolls and strawberry jam waiting, we all knew that it wouldn’t change anything. Violet and I had run as far and as fast as we could, but we had been caught and marched right back.

What was the point in—possibly—being a witch if it didn’t make a difference?

I wished that I, too, could have had a dream about the clearing, like the one Violet had had on our way back. She told me about it the next night, while I brushed her hair in the raven room. I got chills up and down my spine when she told me of the border and our relatives, and even more chills when she told me of how she herself was the dead side, while I was the living side. It did make sense, though, with everything that had happened and everything we could do. I even felt a little proud when I thought of how our family had signed up for it, thinking that it was important.

I wondered how much of this Mama had known.

The ghosts made less sense to me, though. Why had they been in the clearing with a sword—and why had they asked Violet for something again? Hadn’t she given them enough? I wondered if all people who had died—but never left—could go to the lady to make an appeal, or if it was just the ones who had met Violet. I asked her about it, but she didn’t know.

None of what she had learned made things any easier for us, though. We were still stuck on Crescent Hill—with Aunt Clara.

Dina did her best to comfort me whenever we sat together in the kitchen, but it honestly didn’t help much.

“You’ll think of something else, Lily. You’re a strong and resourceful young woman, and the day will come,” she promised, but it definitely didn’t feel like it.

What made everything worse was having to live with the ghosts again. Even if they had been in Violet’s dream, they behaved just the same as before. Mr. Woods was still banging on Aunt Clara’s door every night, and Dina had to feed Aunt Clara. The latter didn’t seem to trust Violet to do it anymore—but I, for one, was happy that she didn’t have to. Dina helped Aunt Clara with her makeup, too, so maybe she knew that I had drawn her eyebrows crooked. I felt sorry for Dina, though, who had to do all that extra work, but I was happy she was there, too, making the best of the situation—slipping us treats and making fancy soups that we had never even known existed. She said she was impressed by how well we had done on our own.

I think Dina was disappointed that we hadn’t managed to escape, but she was happy, too, in a way. “It would have been extremely hard for you to survive out there alone. Sooner or later, you would have had to get help—and what if something had happened to you at the lake house? If one of you had fallen through the ice…It’s better to do things properly, and with the right paperwork signed. I swear I will do what I can to help you.” Dina meant it, too. She had started jotting down a note every time she felt like Aunt Clara mistreated us—unless it had to do with the ghosts—hoping that it would be useful to show Mr. Skye when the list was long enough.

“That woman should never have had the care of children!” she said. “She only ever knew how to serve herself.” Seeing how Aunt Clara also was a murderer, that sounded like an understatement to me, but I was happy that Dina chose to stay with us, even if she knew just how dangerous Aunt Clara could be.

We would’ve been even more lonely and miserable without her.

The only good thing about coming back to Crescent Hill was that I could play Gertrud again. It had been fun to play Astrid at the lake house, but Gertrud and I had known each other for a long time, and I had missed her a lot while we were on the road. Her smooth grain and perfectly tuned strings made the days a little brighter, and I swore that if I ever got to leave Crescent Hill again, Gertrud would come with me. She deserved so much better than being left behind.

It didn’t take more than a few days, however, before Aunt Clara started talking about séances again. She came into the living room while Violet and I were watching TV and leaned against the doorframe. She had a cunning look on her face that I didn’t like, and she was turquoise and purple all over, so I knew that something bad was coming.

“I have been in touch with several prospective clients,” she said, “who have houses riddled with ghosts—”

“Violet would only get sick,” I said, even though I knew that she knew.

“Well, she looks perfectly fine now, and with a little practice, I’m sure she wouldn’t get sick at all.”

“You don’t know that,” I protested. “If you think we’re going to just go back in the car with you and—”

“Not you.” Aunt Clara rolled her eyes. “Goodness, what would I need you for—especially since you have proven to be such a flight risk? No, I only need Violet. You can stay here with Dina.” She still looked smug, and I was too surprised and shocked to say anything at first. “What’s the matter?” she asked me. “Cat got your tongue? I thought you’d be thrilled to stay behind and avoid my loathsome company.”

“But school starts soon,” I protested. “You can’t travel around with her when school starts.”

“Oh, it’s a few weeks yet until that ordeal is upon us, and there will still be weekends and holidays—”

“But Violet needs me,” I cried. My heart ached badly just from thinking of the tadpoles and what would happen to Violet if I wasn’t there to take them away.

“As much as a potato needs lipstick.” Aunt Clara smirked. “If anything, it will be good for you both to have some distance. Violet is not your child, Lily, and you have to stop treating her like it—”

“She is only nine, and you’re using her!” I jumped off the couch to stand before Aunt Clara, shivering all over, but I wasn’t the only one who was mad.

“Why should I be the only one hurting?” Aunt Clara bellowed, and the purple and turquoise exploded with red. “Why should I be the one in pain? I cannot eat and I cannot look at my own face…and my nights are torment because of you! Don’t you think the misery should be evenly dispersed?”

“We didn’t kill those people!” I shouted back, but Aunt Clara only ignored me.

“Violet and I will go,” she said in a final, no-nonsense voice, “and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Her green eyes glittered cruelly. It was then that I knew, deep in my core, what the dream ghosts had wanted, because I felt it, too.

For things to be finally made right, Aunt Clara had to die.