“I went to Hawaii,” he said quietly. “To Kona.”
Sadie opened the box, and nestled inside was another small silver spoon with a filigree pineapple at the top and “Aloha Hawaii” stamped in tiny letters along the handle.
“I love it,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“It’s just a spoon,” he said, even though they both knew that was a lie.
He sat with her until her tears slowed to a trickle, rubbing soothing circles on her back and holding her hand like it was his anchor to this world. Ten years ago, she had loved his acerbic wit and sarcasm. She had reveled in their physical sparring matches, loved to be the object of his incessant teasing. But this softening had her falling for a different side of him, one she hadn’t even known she needed.
“Hey, Sade?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you know that pet theft can get you charged with a misdemeanor and has penalties of fines and possibly jail time?”
A strangled laugh bubbled out of her.
“I’ll risk it,” she said.
When he left, she was still clutching the spoon in her hand.
And every day her magic caused some kind of minor catastrophe.
The upstairs bathroom flooding when she tried to wash her face.
The coffee urn shattering when she filled the filter with ground coffee.
She would wake to find dirt in her bed with no idea as to how it got there.
And always there was an internal clock counting down the days until the full moon.
On the one-week anniversary of Gigi’s passing, Sadie woke on the verge of retching. Her breath came in hitches as the panic made her vision go blurry in the early dawn light. She had dreamed of the full moon, of Seth dead and cold on the ground after they’d been unable to find a way to satisfy the curse. He’d sacrificed himself, and it broke Sadie’s heart. She wept and where her tears fell in the frosted grass, black obsidian sprouted up. She tried to bring him back, but his death was the fourth heartbreak, and her magic was gone. Her stomach churned as she tried to rid herself of the images.
Twenty-three days, Sadie thought. Twenty-three days, and I might never hear that voice again.
They took turns being strong. But it was hard, in that first week, to become accustomed to the truth of death, the reality of it.
Tava, Brian, and Suzy went home, promising to return when Seth had collected Gigi’s ashes.
“Where are you going,” Sadie had demanded wildly. She needed them there. Needed the anchor.
“We’ll be back,” Suzy said again. “We don’t want to spoil the surprise. But it’s a good thing, I promise.”
Kay and Anne stayed.
“I’m sure you’re tired of people asking,” Raquel said one afternoon, “but how are you doing? Really? Slow descent into madness?”
“I don’t know,” Sadie answered honestly. “It’s like I don’t know how to feel. Or maybe I forgot how to feel. But I know that can’t be true because it hurts. All the time, it hurts.”
“It was always going to hurt, cari?o. All you can hope for is that the love is worth the pain. And I know it was.”
Raquel was talking about Gigi, but Sadie involuntarily thought of Jake.
“Have you tried gardening?” Raquel asked tentatively.
“No,” Sadie answered automatically. “I can’t go out there.” Every time she’d tried, the closer she got to the back porch, the more she felt rooted to the spot, until her feet tingled and her soul seemed to stretch in the opposite direction. The magic of the garden seemed, in her mind, tied to Gigi. And Gigi was dead.
“You’ll get there,” Raquel told her, holding Sadie’s cold hand in her own warm one.
“And speaking of getting there,” Seth said, walking into the living room on the tail end of their conversation, “we need to talk about the sacrifice. The conduit.”
“I’m not losing you too,” Sadie said with vehemence.
“Sade, it was just a dream,” he said softly. All she had to do was look at him and know he’d somehow seen her terrible vision.
“You’re my priority now,” Sadie said. “The thought of losing you—” She broke off.
“I know,” he said. “It makes you furious and bitter and terrified. I can feel it rolling off you. But that’s not how we tackle this. You’re the one with systems and solutions, okay? I’m the ideas guy. We’ll fix this together.”
“I’m the moral support,” Raquel chimed in. She tried to make her voice light, but Sadie could see the fear buried in her eyes.