“Our family is royally screwed up.” Sadie sighed.
“That may be,” Florence agreed with a nod, “but honey, that’s what family is. Every family is messed up in its own way. The drama, the politics of it all, navigating the hurt feelings and the expectations and your place in it all. There are grudges and anger and bitterness, and you say things to your family you’d never say to anyone else because you love them the most, and at the end of the day, you know they’re the ones who will forgive you. You do things for family, things you never thought you’d do.” Her words were spoken from experience, and though she smiled at Sadie, there were twenty-eight years of sorrow buried in her eyes. “And that’s all without magic, by the way. We’ve just got a little more to contend with.”
“How do you look so young?” Sadie asked without thinking, unable to keep the question in.
Florence laughed then, a soft, tinkling sound. It was the kind of laugh that could draw you in, make you want to share in the mirth, even if you didn’t know what it was for.
“Magic is good for some things, at least,” she said with a sly smile. “I stopped by your café earlier, you know. It’s incredible. I’m so proud of you.”
Sadie’s throat tightened, and she didn’t even know why. This woman meant nothing to her. She’d spent her whole life telling herself she didn’t need a mother, thinking Seth foolish for his obsession. She had spent nearly thirty years painting a picture of herself she wanted others to see. Strong. Independent. But when it was all stripped away, with her mother here before her, telling her she was proud, who was she?
In that moment, Sadie hated magic for what it had taken from her. She’d always believed the curse was worth the magic. But with each heartbreak, she was less certain. All she wanted was to hold on to her beliefs, but everything she ever saw as true was slipping through her fingers like starlight.
“Listen,” Florence said when Sadie didn’t speak, “I screwed everything up. That wasn’t part of my curse—that’s just me. Even if I could have stayed, I probably would have screwed you and your brother up too. But I want to try, okay? I want Sage to have a place she can call home. I want to do right by all three of you.”
As she spoke, the strange, burnt scent of asafetida drifted from the forest line. Sadie glanced that way, looking for the figure, but there was nothing to be seen.
Dream Catcher Hot Chocolate
It’s more work than the instant packets, but that stuff is crap anyway. This will cure bad dreams and send the drinker off to a sweet slumber. It can also cure headaches and heartaches and make you feel like all is right in the world.
Ingredients
3 c. whole milk
3 T. good-quality cocoa powder
6 oz. semisweet chocolate （sub milk chocolate for creamier taste, or bittersweet for extra punch）
3 T. sugar
splash of vanilla extract
dash of cinnamon
Optional: Fine sea salt sprinkled on top or mixed in gives it that delicious salty-sweet flavor.
Directions
1.?Bring ? c. water to simmer. Whisk in cocoa powder until smooth, add milk, and return to simmer.
2.?Whisk in chocolate, sugar, cinnamon, vanilla, and salt, and stir until mixture is smooth and chocolate is melted—about 5 minutes.
3.?Split among mugs, and top with whipped cream and marshmallows.
??13??
SADIE SLEPT FITFULLY THAT night, dreaming of lost things and garden gates that wouldn’t open, no matter how hard she tried. She woke smelling the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and Gigi’s perfume. And for a few blissful moments, she forgot the events of the previous night, her mother a hazy dream. She forgot until she walked past Gigi’s bedroom door, and the memory of last night crashed over her, cold and salty and wild.
Her mother.
Florence was back.
Anne and Seth and Florence were moving around the kitchen in a practiced dance. Sadie looked in from the doorway, trying and failing to find her place. Even though there was room for her, she couldn’t quite figure out how to maneuver herself between them.
She had thought her brother might look more worried. Had been prepared to promise him the moon. Tell him she would take care of it all, the way she always did. After all, there were only twenty days left. But she’d never seen him look so content. No hint of concern lined his face, only a quiet kind of wonder.
“Sadie!” Florence said when she spotted her. “Sweetheart, how do you take your coffee?”
“I’ll make it.” Her tone was shorter than she’d intended it to be. “I’m just—I’m going to take this upstairs. I’m going into the café.” She pretended not to see Anne’s understanding look or the flash of hurt on Florence’s.