By the time I drag myself into the house, Mom is already busy. She’s using a toothbrush to wipe lemon and herbs into the windowsills. “We need to put the wards back in place. Give me your grandfather’s knife. The one you took from his room. I need it for the etchings.”
How did she know? How do they always know? I take the knife from my pocket, run my thumb along the sun-and-moon symbol, hate to hand it to her, hope she’ll give it back.
“Why do you want to keep him out?”
“I have to.” Mom works etchings into the windowpanes. She’s going so fast I’m scared she’ll nick skin and won’t bother to stop. “Get the anise seeds down from the top left cabinet.”
“We can’t close the realms, Mom. Not yet.”
“I don’t know what you’re messing with, Miliani. But there could be extreme consequences for creating imbalances. Get me the anise. Now.”
I head to the kitchen, and instead of looking in the cabinet, I call Auntie.
She picks up on the first ring. “You know,” she says.
I’m spreading anise seeds around the living room when Auntie comes in without knocking. Mom doesn’t look at her. She lights a stick of sage.
Auntie walks over and snatches it from Mom’s hand. “There’s a different way.”
“Your way is what made this mess in the first place.”
“No,” Auntie says, pointing a finger toward Mom’s chest. “It was you who pushed it too far, and when you couldn’t handle it, you pushed me and Dad and Jonathan away too.”
“You were doing it wrong.” Mom hurries to get the words out; they nearly run together. My body starts to tremble. I’ve wanted so bad for Mom to be open with me, to speak about magic, but not like this. “Every time you tried to sever the connection, your magic brought him closer. And after our father died, it seemed like you wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Auntie looks startled. “Leave you alone to do what? To create this barrier around yourself?” She gestures to the room. Her voice wavers when she says, “You gave up on magic too soon. You gave up on me.” She looks at me fleetingly. I hold my breath. “Even your daughter has suffered because you didn’t want to work hard enough to make it right.”
Mom’s nostrils flare, and I think she might launch herself at Auntie. But she looks at me and her bottom lip juts out. She hugs herself. “You don’t have kids, Lindy, and you don’t know what it feels like losing one, being haunted by one.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” Auntie takes one of Mom’s hands in hers. This is when Mom’s supposed to pull away from the touch, the way she does with me when I try. She doesn’t. “But if you let me help, we can fix this without you giving up magic forever.”
My heart thrums hard at the look on Mom’s face when she asks how. It’s thrumming harder when Auntie tells her she knows how to strip the connection. The right way.
Mom glances at me, then back at her sister. “Miliani shouldn’t be here.”
“We need her,” Auntie says, not bothering to look my way. “She’s strong. She’s made the realms thin enough. We can do it now.”
I feel Auntie’s words like I’m coming through a bad dream. The stark deprivation of air right before realizing you’re awake. I take a step back.
Mom pulls away from Auntie too. “Because you’ve been goading her.”
“I have,” Auntie admits, and it steals the rest of my oxygen. “For us.”
Mom takes a good look at me and says, “Tell me what we have to do.”
I can’t listen to anything else. My head spins as I force my feet to move. I make it to Papa’s tree and hope he’ll hold me up. I have a brother. I had a brother. He died, and he’s haunting my house, he’s haunting my mom. And Auntie Lindy betrayed me.
My mind filters through memories of her. How interested in me she was the night of Jasmine’s funeral, how quick she was to say she’d help. I dissect each memory until all that’s left is lies. The training, the pushing for us to get stronger, all the talks about bringing Jasmine back.
Jasmine. An image of her walking a thin ledge in downtown Providence breaks through. Me, telling her she’s going to fall. Her, never listening, always wild. No, I’ll float, she said.
If Auntie lied about why she’s helping me, can we even bring Jas back? Does that mean I’ll never see her again? I lose focus on my surroundings, then blink, but it’s still a blur. I turn so my back is against Papa’s tree, slide down until I feel earth beneath me.
Light is long gone from the sky when the front door opens and Auntie walks over to tell me more lies. She reaches up to pinch one of the tree branches. I don’t try to keep the tears away or try to block her from my mind. She should see and feel what she’s done.
“The training, feeling a … bond with you, none of that was fabricated, Miliani.”
“A bond founded on lies is no bond at all. You broke whatever we had,” I say. “It might have been real for you, but it’s not to me. Not anymore.”
Her eyes widen, but she shifts them to look up at the sky. The moon hovers over us. The moon mocks me. Jasmine might not get a chance to see it again.
“Very well,” Auntie says. “I knew you’d be upset. I’ll accept that. It’s worth it.”
I feel a twinge of pain in my heart. I wasn’t expecting to lose what was growing between us, but how can I trust her now? “Was anything for Jasmine real?”
“You can see with your mother the way the spell works,” she says. “It’s very real. But if you’re asking my intentions, my focus was on helping our family.”
“So I’m not your family?” I whisper. “You used me.”
“Yes, Miliani. And I’m sorry you’re hurt. But I don’t regret it.”
“This whole time.” I start to sob. I hate it. I don’t want to cry. “My friends went through with all of this…”
“They should be grateful. They’re stronger, too, thanks to you.” There’s no remorse when Auntie says, “I’d do it again. It’ll help heal your mother. We can be a family again. There’s so much more you can learn if we’re a family again.”
My heart holds the word family close, but the rest of me remains hard when I ask why she wasn’t honest from the beginning. She moves closer, squats down so we’re at eye level.
“We need at least three people to complete the spell to sever the connection.” She’s too close. I try to look away, but she’s got a lock on me. “We needed someone strong, fresh in magic, that shares our blood ties. Dad was sick by the time we tried. We couldn’t use him for the spell even if we’d had the heart to. But he’ll be helping us from the other side now. Your uncle Jonathan’s heart was never into magic,” she says. “Then you showed up at my doorstep, passionate about saving your friend, willing to widen the realms, and there it was. Someone whose heart would be in it. I didn’t have to coerce you to get stronger for the spell to work.”
“But—”
“You were already filled with wanting. I needed you to concentrate on that so your journey was centered. Had you known about your mother, you might’ve thought differently about bringing your friend back. And that grief? That grief may have taken you too long to work through. After seeing you in my home, my flesh and blood, so close I could reach out and touch you”—she almost does now but drops her hand back at her side—“I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t wait any longer to be with you and my sister again.”
I try to ignore the pull I feel to alleviate the tension between us. “I don’t feel differently about Jasmine. I need her,” I say. “What if we still want to do the anchoring? Would it work?”
“Yes,” she says. “But dead things change in death. She hasn’t been gone as long as your brother was, but she still might not be the girl you were in love with. It’s a gamble.”
Suddenly, it’s easier to breathe. “But she’d be with me.”
“The choice is yours, Miliani, and maybe I’d make the same one if I were you.” She stands. “I need you to help me tonight.”
“Why should I help you with anything?”
“Because it’s for your mother.” This strikes me, peels away another layer of my defense, but I’m not sold until she says, “And if you help with the severing spell, there’s no doubt you’ll be ready to channel the moon for the anchoring.”
I swallow, ask, “What about Darleny? Will she end up like Mom?”
“It’s possible, but they’re identical twins. Their spirits are already intertwined. Darleny should be able to handle it better.”
I can’t tell if she’s lying, but I have no other choice. I ask what she wants from me, and she says the mirror for seeing spirits needs to be charged with my energy for the severing spell.
“The energy will linger for your anchoring. We both win.”
“It isn’t a game,” I say. “And I have something else to do.”
“You’re going to your friends.”
“Stop it. You’re not allowed in my head anymore.”
“You’re strong, but not that strong.” She smirks, reaches into her pocket, and hands me the mirror. It gives me the same sinking feeling in my stomach as it did the night I saw the spirit in it. My brother’s spirit. I keep it covered and tight to my chest. “Take this with you. Have your friends help you charge it.”
“How did you get this? You went into my room?”
She turns and walks toward my house, calling over her shoulder, “Just get it done.”