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The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic(45)

Author:Breanne Randall

“Well, we can figure it out, though. Right? We’ll find a way around it. It’ll be fine,” Sadie babbled.

“You don’t understand,” Gigi shook her head. “My magic, my sacrifice … I should have died to save you. I’ve lived too long—it’s unbalanced; and now it’s going to rebound on one of you to collect back what is owed. I’ve been fighting it all this time, sustaining the bond, but even my death, it won’t be enough. When I’m gone, you’ll need a sacrifice.”

There was silence for a beat as they both took in her words. Seth, in particular, looked like he was working through an essay question he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. And then …

“Wait. What?” he burst out.

“You mean we’ll have to kill someone?” Sadie laughed this time, and it came out hysterical. “There’s a workaround here somewhere. A loophole. Right? Isn’t that one of the laws of nature? Of magic? There’s always a loophole of some kind?” It all seemed utterly impossible. From the pages of a book titled How Not to Use Magic.

“Well, sugar,” Gigi said, sighing, “if there is one, you’d be the one to find it. But this is all uncharted territory.” She grimaced and put a hand to her back as she stood. “Would you mind making me one of those coffees of yours while I go have a cigarette?”

“Of course,” Sadie answered, on autopilot.

“Don’t burn the kitchen down while you’re in there,” Seth sniped, but his heart wasn’t really in it.

Sadie tried to busy herself with hazelnut-infused coffee, but her movements were sluggish, and she finally sat on the stool and buried her head in her hands. It was all too much. Her stomach churned, and she was grateful she hadn’t eaten much dinner; otherwise, she was sure it would be making its way up.

She tried not to think about Seth being back.

She tried not to think about the secrets sticking to Gigi like freshly tapped syrup.

She tried not to think about Jake’s sweatshirt, still wrapped around her, or his laugh as he’d dunked her in the lake.

And she failed miserably at it all.

The room was spinning, and her eyes, as she stared at the counter, were blurry. It was all too much. Everything was piling up. Her curse. Jake. Seth. Gigi’s cancer and the conduit magic. She’d never believed in coincidences; another Revelare rule. Everything had a purpose, a reason. Which meant that something bad, very bad, was coming. And she didn’t think she could handle anything else. She needed time. To process. To grieve. But magic, she realized, was useless when it came to that.

A cold hand settled on her shoulder for the briefest second, and then Seth started making the coffee.

“The doctor came in again after you left,” he said into the silence. “He guesses she only has a few weeks left.” His voice was hollow as a bird’s bone.

“I’m working on it,” Sadie croaked, surprised to find her voice worked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m working on something to cure her.” Duh. Double duh, she thought.

“Don’t you think if magic could cure cancer, someone in our extremely strange family would have figured it out by now?”

“You sound like Gigi. But I don’t care. It’s going to work. It has to.”

“You always were bad at accepting reality.”

“Maybe I just refuse to give in without a fight,” she argued.

“Or maybe you’re running away from the truth, like you always do.”

“Excuse me? Pardon me? Are you not the one who left? Oh wait, that’s right. You are.” Her voice broke then, and she swiped angrily at the tears that began to fall. Seth looked at her and opened his mouth for a retort, but then he put the coffee down and shocked Sadie by pulling her into a hug.

“You can be such an ass, you know that?” he said into her hair as he held her close.

She was stiff against him at first. Thought about pushing him away. But this was what she’d missed. His ability to be strong for her when she couldn’t be for herself. And so finally, she sagged against him, her head on his shoulder as her arms wrapped around him and returned the embrace.

“Ditto,” she said, though the word was muffled against his shirt.

“Cheer up, ugly duckling,” he said, pulling away with a grin. “We’ve got this.” She shoved him in the chest, and he laughed, and for a moment they were kids again.

“Hand me the cinnamon oil,” she said, pointing to the cupboard.

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