Seven

The morning sun felt warm on my skin as I stepped outside, and the Harrigan mansion’s driveway looked like it belonged in a magazine. Right there, leaning against her lilac car like she owned the place, was Millie Peterson. You couldn’t miss her—those soft curls bouncing around her face, oversized shades reflecting the gates behind me, and a pastel pink top covered in tiny crescent moons. Her wrists were adorned with gemstone bracelets, jingling with every move she made, and honestly, she sparkled every time she took a step.

"Broo, finally!" she shouted, pushing off the car and strutting towards me with all her usual flair. "You had me worried sick! I was this close..." she pinched her fingers together, "...to calling 911 and reporting your rich new family for kidnapping!"

I couldn’t help but laugh as I met her halfway for a hug. "I’ve only been gone one day, Millie. You act like I vanished off the map, plus we were texting non-stop."

"Please," she said, pulling back to check me out, "you might as well have. Look at this place! I can practically smell the generational wealth. And the ghosts. Do you sense the ghosts? Because I do."

I rolled my eyes, but just having her there made me smile. "It’s not that bad."

"Oh, really?" she said, narrowing her eyes as she circled me like she was inspecting for damages. "You look alive, so that’s good. They’re feeding you? No creepy stepdad? You’re not being haunted by any dead Harrigan ancestors or, like, your high school bully who turned into your stepbrother overnight?"

I froze for a sec before forcing a laugh. "Yeah, about that..."

Her mouth dropped open. "You’re kidding, did he do anything to you?"

"No." Not yet, I thought.

Just as I was about to open the passenger door, Millie suddenly held up a finger. "Wait, don’t move."

I stopped in my tracks, watching her rummage through her oversized pastel purse that looked more like a suitcase. She muttered something about "spiritual contamination" before she triumphantly pulled out a green crystal the size of a small apple.

"Oh no," I groaned, already dreading where this was headed.

"Hush," she said, her tone shifting like she just became a full-time witch. She started waving the crystal around me in slow, deliberate circles, mumbling under her breath. The morning light caught the gem, scattering little emerald glimmers over my arm and face. "We need to cleanse your aura before it’s too late," she said seriously. "You’ve been exposed to... dark energy."

I stared at her flatly. "Dark energy? Millie, I don’t—"

She shot me a look. "With him."

I blinked. "With who?"

"You know who," she said, lowering her voice like she was about to say Voldemort’s name. "Rowan Harrigan. That boy radiates dark energy. I can practically feel the toxicity from here. Just standing too close to him can mess up your spiritual alignment."

I snorted, crossing my arms while she kept waving the crystal dangerously close to my face. "My spiritual alignment is fine. And I think you’ve officially lost it."

"Laugh all you want," she said, circling me again, "but negative energy is contagious. It seeps into your aura, your chakras, your vibe. I’m not letting you start our shopping day possessed by evil, hot, rich boy energy."

That did it—I burst out laughing again, almost doubling over. "Oh my god, stop, Millie. You’re going to make me choke on air."

She huffed dramatically but finally lowered the crystal, tossing her curls back with a proud little smile. "You’ll thank me later when you don’t wake up craving yacht parties, ego trips, and the urge to torture innocent people."

"Right," I said, still chuckling as I slid into the passenger seat. "Next time I see him, I’ll make sure to carry with me salt and holy water just in case."

"That’s the spirit," she said, grinning as she climbed in beside me and started the engine. "Now let’s go spend some money and chat about anything that doesn’t involve cursed stepbrothers."

"Deal," I replied, buckling up as we drove off, the mansion fading in the rearview mirror—along with, hopefully, Rowan’s corrupting energy.

The drive out of the mansion was quiet for a few minutes, the air conditioning humming softly while pastel sunlight filtered through the windshield. Millie had one hand on the wheel and the other rummaging through a bag of gummy bears balanced between us. She popped one into her mouth before glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

"So," she began, her voice softening from its usual playful tone, "how’s everything been? I mean, besides the whole evil stepbrother situation."

She just couldn’t help herself from mentioning him.

I exhaled slowly, watching the trees blur past outside the window. "It’s... fine, I guess. Weird, but fine."

Millie raised an eyebrow. "Weird fine or fine fine?"

"The first one." I chuckled weakly. "Roderick—Rowan’s dad, he actually seems like a really nice guy. He decorated my room to look almost exactly like my old one. Same wall color, same bookshelf, even that stupid star-shaped lamp I’ve had since middle school. He must’ve asked Mom about everything."

"That’s... actually sweet," Millie said, sounding genuinely surprised. "So, stepdad points for effort."

"Yeah," I murmured, twisting the amethyst crystal she’d given me a week ago ’for protection’ between my fingers. "He’s really trying, and Mom looks so happy with him. Happier than I’ve seen her in years, honestly. But..."

"But?"

I sighed, leaning my head against the window. "I feel kind of guilty. She finally found someone who treats her right, who can actually give her the life she deserves, and all I can think about is how much I hate that it ties me to him."

Millie fell quiet for a moment, her hand resting gently on my knee as we stopped at a light. "Hey," she said softly, her tone losing its usual teasing edge, "you don’t have to feel bad about that. You’re allowed to have mixed feelings, Atlas. It’s not like you asked for this mess. You just got caught in the middle."

"I know," I said, my voice small. "But still. It feels selfish. I should be happy for her without feeling... whatever this is."

She gave my knee a reassuring squeeze before letting go. "You’re not selfish, you’re human. Honestly, if I had to live under the same roof as someone who made my life terrible in school, I’d be in therapy by now. You’re handling it better than most would."

That made me laugh softly, and the tension in my chest eased a little. "Maybe I should start charging myself for therapy sessions with you."

"Please," she said with a grin, turning back to the road. "You couldn’t afford me. My emotional labor is priceless."

I rolled my eyes but smiled, sinking deeper into the seat as the city skyline came into view. For a moment, it almost felt like things were back to normal, like Rowan Harrigan wasn’t upstairs in that mansion, still lurking around the edges of my peace.

But with my luck, I knew deep down it wouldn’t be long before things got fucked up again.