Page 99 of Spell Ya Later

Hazel’s emerald green eyes regard me. The pity there is new. She never pitied me before. Not before she left and started a whole life without me. “No?”

“No,” I repeat. “It’s not time.”

“I know you aren’t ready yet.” She resettles on the plushy New England style couch in the living room of the house wegrew up in. The house that is currently agreeing with me—if the groans and creaks are anything to go by. “I don’t want to do this either, but...”

Hazel and Grandma look at each other. They’re on the same team now, ever since Hazel started training with Grandma. They’re on the magical side and I’m over here. By myself.

“This isn’t some overwhelming grief moment. While I realize you two still see me as a child, I’m not one. It isn’t time,” I say, before either of them can bulldoze over me. Despite the tears falling down my cheeks.

Grandma’s eyes narrow. “How do you know?”

“What do you mean, ‘how does she know?’” Hazel splutters.

“I know.” I sit up straighter, ignoring Hazel. “Because I do.”

I don’t want to tell them about the fire yet. The fire has always been mine, and not even Mom was able to take it from me. It has been my secret for as long as Dad has been gone.

Hazel visibly deflates, a warm, comforting breeze ruffling my hair. Pity again. “We can put off discussing it for another week or two.”

I roll my eyes and stand. “Thanks, sis.”

I don’t know her anymore. I don’t know this person she’s become. Part of me enjoys seeing Hazel actually have a spine for once in her life, and of course I love that she’s found her person. Even if he’s not speaking to her currently. But the other part of me misses when she cared more about me.

The sister I knew would never leave me alone with our mother, and then barely see me for months. The sister I knew would never risk her own life to fight some daemon and then blame me for not having a life worth protecting.

The sister I knew loved me.

But this Hazel? I’m not so sure.