I stare at her, barely breathing.
“I meant what I told you before you left for Mountain Haven,” Bea says. “There are more women who want to help—who might find healing through it the same way that you did. You’ve always been so Divine-damn bad at taking help, but Josie and I have been planning for this for a long time because we saw how it helped you. We all have scores to settle. This network has given me purpose and it’s helped Josie heal. This isn’t something you need to do alone.”
For so long, I was focused only on myself. It didn’t occur to me that other women might be healed through this same empowering violence.
“I have only ever asked you for what I knew you could give me,” Bea says. “Let us pick up the slack for a while. Take care of yourself. Figure out what you want, and you can come back when you’re ready and we’ll always be happy to have you.”
She doesn’t wait for me to answer. She leans over and kisses my cheek.
Then, she turns and walks to the door, pausing in the threshold. She doesn’t turn to face me as she says, “And stop stealing my favorite wine.”
Bea closes the door behind her and leaves me alone with my ghosts.
I place the last beloved bottle of pilfered wine on the side table and walk into the bedroom that was supposed to be Aidia’s.
The bed is covered in a thin white sheet, as is most of the furniture. Only the antique vanity is unveiled. I sit down in front of the mirror, place my head in my hands, and the sadness rises like it’s waited all day for this exact moment.
I break down into body-heaving sobs. I cry for my sister, for myself, for the person I might have been if my life had been just a little bit less cruel. I cry for all the times I wanted to and couldn’t. Most of all, I cry for all the times I believed I was weak, when I was just broken under the weight of my grief.
It’s unclear if it takes moments or hours for the years of twisted-up emotions to come out, but the streets grow silent and the midnight bells ring.
When I finally glance up at the mirror in front of me, I know I will find my sister looking back. She’s standing behind me, her face illuminated by the sunstone streetlight pouring in through the bedroom windows. Her skin is no longer bruised. She looks radiant in a simple midnight-blue wool dress, with her black hair loose around her shoulders.
“You’re not real,” I say.
The corner of her mouth quirks up. “I know.”
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
“But you wanted me to be,” she says, her voice so gentle.
I nod. I did. Even though I know she’s not real, I wanted to see heragain. Even if I’m just talking to myself, it feels good to think of how she would make my worries feel lighter.
“Is this about that husband of yours?” she asks.
I nod.
“You’re in love with him?”
I bite my lip. “He killed Rafe.”
Aidia laughs, loud and sudden. “Bleeding woods! Now I’m in love with him, too. I guess I’ll have to fight you for him.” She beckons me toward her with both hands. “Come on, let’s go. I know you have more experience rumbling with people, but I’m pretty scrappy. I think I could still take you.”
When I don’t rise to her taunting, she sighs, and her face softens. “What are you so afraid of, Low? Henry knows who you are.”
I cock my head. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
“He’s who you deserve,” Aidia says. “You have made yourself into my monster, into a monster for the women of Lunameade. You deserve someone who will be a monster for you.”
And Henry has done that. He recognized his mistake, and he tried to bring me peace.
“I know you love to run, Low. But as long as you’re looking for a reason to, you will find it.”
I look down at my hands for a long moment. When I finally meet her lilac eyes in the glass again, she’s right behind me.
“It’s always going to feel safer to be on your own because a lot of people abandoned you,” Aidia says. “But if you run, you’ll be abandoning yourself along with them.”
My throat is so tight. I’m afraid to let Henry love me. Afraid that he will stop. Afraid that I will learn to need him and he won’t be there.
