LOGINOh, snap. We are coming to the final show down based on where we are at in the timeline!
I watched Tie pull Thales into his arms and had to look away before I started crying too. The whole damn courtyard had become one emotional ambush after another. Liliana’s magic still shimmered through the grounds in faint gold threads, but now that I understood what I was looking at, the pattern made sense. She hadn’t opened anything. She hadn’t torn a hole between worlds. She hadn’t called the dead back. Thank the Goddess. I moved closer to the remembrance table and held my hand over a glowing strand. It curled around my fingers like a warm ribbon, then drifted toward Mama’s candle. Memory was all it was, and somehow that made it even more incredible. “Celestina,” I called softly. She stepped beside me. “You see it too?” She nodded, her eyes following another thread toward Crista and Delilah. “The ritual was already built around remembrance. Names. Food. Scent. Light. Emotional attachment.” “And Liliana gave it movement.” “More than movement.” I exhaled. Of course she had
The humming lingered after everyone stopped talking. I knew that melody. I knew the pauses between the notes, the way the tune rose at the end before falling soft again. My Mamma used to hum it when she thought I was asleep. For one second, I could almost feel her fingers brushing through my hair. Almost. Liliana still had her arms around me. I rested one hand over the back of her head and forced myself to breathe. This wasn’t Mamma. Not really. That mattered. Across the courtyard, Katrina and Celestina stood beside the remembrance tables, hands raised, gold magic threading between them and the candles. Neither looked panicked anymore. Focused, yes. Careful. But not afraid. I watched one glowing strand curl around a photograph, brighten, then fade again. “Kat,” I called quietly. She looked at me. “These aren’t ghosts.” It wasn’t a question. Katrina’s eyes softened. “No.” Relief moved through me so quickly I nearly laughed. Good. I loved my dead. I missed them. But I wasn’t
The party somehow went back to normal after Liliana’s cards stopped trying to give Tie a heart attack. Well, normal for our family. Liliana stayed practically glued to Katrina’s side for the next twenty minutes, which I figured was less because she wanted to be there and more because Katrina could tell exactly where her daughter was without looking. André wasn’t doing much better. Every time he moved, somebody watched him. Papa watched him. Mama watched him. Katrina definitely watched him. Even Darren had started giving him suspicious looks, which was impressive considering Darren had helped decorate half the courtyard with inflatable ghosts. Christina bumped my shoulder as we stood near a table. “Who do you think breaks and kills André?” she whispered. I glanced toward our brother. He was currently trying to convince Caspian and Aragon that pumpkin bowling was more fun if you stood farther away. Katrina saw him move the starting line. “André,” she warned. He moved it back. I
I kept thinking about the cards. Even after Grace moved to the next table and started pretending she wasn’t watching me, I kept staring at them. They were pretty. Not normal pretty. Magic pretty. The gold vines on the backs caught the light every time I moved them, and the red looked almost like it was glowing. I liked the Queen of Hearts best. She looked important. Kind of like Mamma. Except Mamma would probably say queens didn’t need to look mean to be powerful. I sighed and set the Queen back down. Everyone always worried about my magic. Mamma worried. Papa worried. Celestina watched me like she was waiting for sparks to fly out of my fingers. Sometimes they did. That wasn’t the point. I knew Mamma’s magic was strong. Everyone knew. She was the Crone. She could make candles light without touching them, move things through the air, cast protections around the whole packhouse, and do spells I wasn’t even allowed to watch yet. Celestina got to use magic too. Nobody told her not to
By the time Mama decided my costume needed one more adjustment, the packhouse had turned into complete insanity. I stood in front of a hallway mirror while she tugged my costume collar straight, her fingers moving quickly before she signed, Hold still. “I am holding still,” I complained, even though I definitely wasn’t. Mama gave me the look. I stopped moving. Papa leaned against the wall behind us, already dressed, grinning like he found it all entertaining. “You know arguing with your mother has never worked.” I looked at him through the mirror. “You do it all the time.” “And lose all the time,” he admitted cheerfully. Mama smirked. Before I could answer, two identical blurs raced past the doorway. “Gwen!” someone shouted from farther down the hall. “Nope!” one twin called back. “Christina!” “Wrong again!” I turned just in time to see both girls disappear around the corner in matching costumes that made them even harder to tell apart than usual. “That’s evil,” I said. Pap
By noon, the Nebrodi grounds looked like two completely different holidays had crashed into each other and decided to stay. I stood on the terrace outside the packhouse, arms folded, watching Zio Gunnar balance on a ladder while Zio Henrik shouted directions from the ground. “Higher,” Zio Henrik called, pointing toward the stone archway. “The web needs to droop more on the left.” “It’s fake spiderweb, not fucking drapery,” Zio Gunnar grumbled as he stretched another handful across the arch. Mama’s head snapped around from the long table she and Celestina had been working at. “Language,” she warned sharply. Zio Gunnar froze halfway down the ladder and looked directly at me. I grinned. He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t repeat that.” “Wasn’t planning to,” I said innocently. He didn’t believe me. Nobody ever believed me when I said things innocently. I blamed Papa. Across the courtyard, Mama and Celestina were handling what Mama called the important part of the celebration. Long table







