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“There’s nothing wrong with being a witch,” I told her, and she raised her eyebrows. “Except that I have no idea how to help her be a witch! I-I’m barely surviving as a witch’s sidekick.”
Freya stared at me in shock. Then, she laughed in my face.
“You,” she said and wheezed. “You just willingly called yourself my sidekick?”
Heat rushed to my face, and I scratched the back of my head.
“Your very much equal partner-in-crime,” I corrected.
“You can’t take it back now,” she said and smiled. “Sidekick.”
When she laughed, her whole face lit up. It almost made my embarrassment worth it.
“I can see your head swelling from the weight of your ego,” I said.
“You know you’ve saved my ass as much as I’ve saved yours, right?” she asked.
I shifted my weight. “I don’t know how to be there for her with this.”
“Walker.” Freya rolled her eyes. “Just do the same thing you’ve always done. You’re a good brother.”
“Yeah,” I said and sat in one of the large, high-backed chairs. “But I can’t be a witch. I don’t even understand how it’s possible that she’s a witch. I’m sorry for taking that out on you.”
Freya sighed and sat next to me. It was a tight squeeze with the both of us in one chair, but I didn’t mind her nearness. Her lilac-scented shampoo tickled my nose. It smelled better on her. She laid her small hand over mine.
“I’m not really sure how she’s a witch either,” she admitted, “but I’ll help you figure it out.”
“Maybe it would be better for her to join your coven anyway,” I said. The truth fell from my lips before my mind even caught up to it. “Being raised by a teenage brother and a drunk isn’t much of a childhood.”
I’d never acknowledged Dad’s condition to someone other than Cadence, at least not in so many words. A weight lifted off my chest, though a part of me wanted to hide from Freya’s stare. Her coppery eyes bore into mine with the heavy weight of sadness.
“You were a little bit right,” she said. Her lip wobbled, and she cleared her throat. “Growing up a witch is not the easiest thing for a child, especially with power like Cadence’s. When I was only fourteen, I sent a rather rude girl crashing down the stairs without even trying to. She broke her arm, and I got three weeks in the cuffs.”
“Cuffs?” I asked.
She sighed. “They’re what witches use to bind each other’s magic when the situation calls for it. They’re reserved only for severe punishments.”
“That must’ve been frightening for you,” I said.
“It was almost a relief,” Freya whispered. “I didn’t have to worry about losing my temper and hurting anybody. But when the other girls realized it was a perfect time to exact any revenge plots they had for me, the relief quickly ended.”
“Freya,” I said, “how many girls did you piss off?”
She laughed and shrugged.
“Probably too many,” she admitted. “That’s when my mother decided it was time for me to hone my physical combat skills.”
She tucked a curl behind her ear, and it sprang free immediately. I couldn’t stop myself. I coiled it around my finger.
“The point is, I get it. Though I love my mother and my coven, sometimes…”
She let the sentence trail away.
“You still wonder,” I said, “what it would’ve been like to grow up in a different family. In a different life.”
Freya nodded but didn’t meet my gaze. I dropped her hair.
“I wonder too.” I glanced at my sleeping little sister. “What having a normal family must be like.”
