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“I always wanted to believe her. She was my mother.” I gave a little shudder at the image of my mother’s mascara running as she knelt before me, begging me for another chance—swearing off men, magic, whatever it took to let me into her life again. “I didn’t have time to give her a chance. She died three days after she found me again. The Hollow’s police reports say it was an overdose from a substance from behind The Veil.”
“Do you believe them?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t think about it too hard. It certainly wasn’t impossible. Bottom line, it didn’t change the fact that she was dead.”
“I never knew the timeline. I’m so sorry, Trix. If I’d known, I would’ve looked harder for you. I would’ve made a deal with the devil to spare you.”
“I know, Gran. It’s not your fault. She hid me from you.”
“It’s not your fault either.” Grandma Betty clutched my other hand in hers, tears glistening in her eyes as she studied me. “Where did you go?”
“I laid low. I was almost seventeen, so it was just a year until I turned legal. I was basically already running the house and the bills and everything else. I just took up babysitting and dishwashing and whatever else sort of gigs I could get my hands on to keep the lights on.”
“That’s terrible, Trix. I wish I could have been there for you.”
“It’s fine. But that’s when I swore off magic. I was afraid of hurting someone. I was afraid of being used for my magic. I was afraid of someone loving me only because of my power.”
Gran studied me. There was no pity in her gaze, just understanding.
It was a relief when she changed the subject. “Talk to me about the apartment.”
“The apartment?” I asked.
“You seem very attached to the space where you’re living. I understand; I lived there too. I know it is a connection between you and Daisy.” Gran reached down, plucked a few errant weeds out of the dirt. “But it seems like you’re taking Dominic Kent’s selling of your property as something personal. Couldn’t it just be a business decision on his end and not him trying to ruin your life?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not about me, per se. It’s about not being able to afford a new place in The Hollow with prices these days. It’s the injustice of it all.”
“If it’s about money, I can help you. I don’t have much, but I’d give you anything I could.”
I knew Gran didn’t have money. She had a cute cottage up here, but the expenses were low, and she’d lived here forever. Like me, she’d never made a huge salary. She’d taught elementary magic to kids, a thankless job which certainly didn’t make a woman rich.
“I appreciate that, Gran, but I’m an adult who needs to be standing on my own two feet.”
“I think you’re ignoring the bigger part of my question.”
I blew out a reluctant breath. “Daisy never brought home men to that place. It was our haven. The only place where Mom and I were actually a family. Giving up that apartment feels like I’m losing a part of me, a part of her. It was the only place we were ever really happy.”
Gran pulled me in for a tight hug. She let me cry onto her shoulder, even though I was taller than her, and she just held me, her strong little fingers digging into my back in a way that told me she was holding back her own tears.
When we parted, she nodded for me to follow her. Grandma Betty walked a few paces ahead of me, probably thinking I couldn’t see the damp streaks running down her cheeks. I appreciated the beat of privacy that left me able to catch my own breath.
“For what it’s worth, Daisy would understand if you needed to move on.” Gran turned to me, gave a swift nod. “Home is not a place, especially since your mother is not with us anymore. Home is where you make it, Trix. The apartment is yours now, and you shouldn’t feel burdened by a ghost. It might be worth considering whether your life might be better served by starting fresh somewhere else.”
“Maybe,” I said shakily. “It’s just hard.”
“Change is hard, but you only get one life. Daisy would want you to dream bigger than this. I don’t mean financially. I mean she would want you to be happy, to feel fulfilled, to be living the life you dreamed of—not the life she wanted. You are not your mother.”
“I know that, Gran.”
Grandma Betty turned away, leaned down to a cherry tomato plant and collected a few juicy red gems, depositing them into the pockets of her pink frilly apron. “I don’t know the solution.”
“Me neither.”
“I just hate to see you roped into a life that’s not making you happy. You’re too young and life’s too short. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but not all men are out to get you. Using magic is not bad, either. Magic is not inherently bad; it’s the people who are responsible for misusing it.”
“I’ve spent a long time doing what’s comfortable for me.” I raised a shoulder. “It’s comfortable being on my own, in a familiar apartment, hating magic.”
Gran smiled gently at me. “You don’t have to be afraid of becoming Daisy. You are allowed to open yourself up to love, to magic, to living your life.”
