She didn’t realize she was crying until the tears fell her into her tea, causing the steam to rise in spirals.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
Her mother’s voice startled her, and as she wiped her eyes, she realized Sage was nowhere to be seen.
“Or should I ask?”
“Everything,” Sadie heard herself answer.
“I spent so many years hating myself. Hating life. Or I should say, hating my life. I recognize the look on someone else.”
“I have nothing left. Literally, nothing,” Sadie was surprised to find herself telling her mother. She knew it was an exaggeration. She knew she had the town, her café, her family, but the thought of losing Seth made it all meaningless, and she was too heartbroken to care about being dramatic.
“You have everything,” Florence said, her finely arched brows furrowing in a way that made her even more beautiful.
“How?” Sadie laughed, and it turned her tea bitter.
“Listen sweetheart, I spent almost twenty-five years alone. A thirty-second phone call here, a one-line text message there. A few times—and I have no idea how she did it—but a few times Anne got a postcard to me. Once mom tried to send me a picture of you and your brother, but it had turned to ash inside the envelope. You two weren’t supposed to be born, and my curse made sure I knew it.”
For the first time Sadie thought of what it must have been like for her mother. She’d always been afraid of being abandoned, of her curse bringing about her worst fear, but Florence had been truly alone.
“How did you do it? How did you not go insane?”
“Who says I didn’t?” Florence laughed. “I spent a decade punishing myself. Living in that misery as my own form of penance. And it didn’t do a damn bit of good. It took me another decade to start forgiving myself. To accept that the stupid indiscretions of youth, despite their consequences, didn’t have to define me anymore. My misery served no purpose. It didn’t make me feel better. It didn’t bring me closer to you. And I knew that if I met you as I was, I’d be ashamed. So, I went on a quest to become someone you’d be proud to call your mother.”
Her words were buoyant and calm, and Sadie turned them over in her mind like a sand dollar you find on the beach. She’d given a lot of thought to her mother over the years, but whether she’d be proud of her hadn’t been one of them. She wondered what it would be like to be a mother. To carry the weight of your children in your heart, etched into your skin, worrying always, the way Gigi had. The way her mother had too, apparently.
“Do you have any ideas about how we can fulfill the life debt?” Sadie asked, turning the subject to what she felt was safer waters. The threat of death seemed safer than motherly love.
“I’m still working on it. But I know he needs to learn how to control his magic before it consumes him. Because for him, it’ll pull him down to the depths. The darkness. And climbing your way out of that is—well, sometimes it can be too hard to do. He’ll lose himself.”
“But if the sacrifice is complete, it’ll be easier for him to get control, won’t it?”
Florence nodded.
Twelve days.
And still no answer in sight. Anxiety was a poison that made her frantic. It was cold and cushioned as fresh snow, welcoming her with its icy arms until her teeth chattered and her heart felt frosted over. It was time to pull out all the stops. The seven founding families all had elements of magic, and though they’d never heard of a curse like theirs, she was willing to try anything. And she’d start with Sorin Tovah. Only two years older than her, Sorin was an expert with alchemical elixirs.
“Maybe you could try purifying him,” Sorin said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “You know, burn the curse out.”
Sadie left Sorin’s house with a recipe and a spark of hope.
“You want me to drink what?” Seth demanded when she showed him the paper. “You realize that mercury and sulfur are poisonous, right?”
“Only in big doses,” she said. “Would you rather have a little bit of poison or be dead?”
“Touché, sister. Where do we start?”
They took an ounce each of gold flakes, silver flakes, sulfur, mercury, and hemlock and watched as it slowly melted in the glass beaker, the flames burning blue and then silver.
Once it had boiled, they poured it into small glasses and went out to the garden, where Sadie poured a circle of salt around them.
“Bottoms up?” Seth asked. His tone was light, but Sadie could see the hope in his eyes that this could work, and the fear that it might not.