Chapter Twenty-Four

My cottage was just as I had left it. I passed the kitchen and the fireplace and went straight to my room.

Ugh, I knew it. I had forgotten to make my bed. How careless.

I sighed and returned to the fireplace, where I sat in my wooden chair and folded my hands in my lap, unsure of what exactly to do. I cleared my throat, tapping my fingers, and began humming as I looked about the room.

And in this state of perplexed boredom, I fell asleep.

I started when someone knocked on the door. I sprang to my feet and went to answer it, but hesitated. Then the door slid open on its own and there, in the doorway, stood a girl only a few years younger than me in a cheery periwinkle dress. Deep red blood still stained her stomach.

“Lefeli!” I screamed.

“You forgot to lock the door,” she commented with a smile. “It was much harder to take the necklace when the door was locked, you know. I came to tell you that Atlas and Evyne are gonna be lonely now, because of you. He meant to tell you in your little midnight talk, but Atlas doesn’t have anyone other than his half sister, Evyne. They’re all alone again, just as it was before my curse.”

She smiled again and waved cutely as the door shut itself again, leaving me gaping in horror at where she’d stood.

And then I was back in the wooden chair, covered in cold sweat. A dream? I couldn’t shake Lefeli’s haunting words.

I immediately got up and locked the door, true to my dream, and started on dinner. For once, completely alone.

The rest of that night went slowly. I never did get back to sleep after that, and I couldn’t find anything else to do, either, so I stoked a fire and sat in peril until the sun rose on my first day back to work in more than a month.

Miss Tremie’s shop was draped with dismal colors in honor of Lefeli’s death. She’d been told of her passing, but nothing involving her magic or the curse that had caused us to leave in the first place.

The chatter of the customers was only slightly dulled, though, and when I saw her, Tremie looked the same as always. But I knew more than most just how much a service voice could hide.

I was put to work immediately after Tremie felt she had dramatically cried enough over my return, and I found a sort of solace in the busyness of the shop. I always had a distraction, a fiddle, a work. I was never left alone with my thoughts. If nothing else, Tremie knew how to keep someone away from their worries.

I returned home, slept fitfully, and woke the next morning to start it all over again. And this went on for what seemed like an eternity, a never ending diversion from the thoughts I refused to face. From the life I refused to live.

How long would I stay in denial?

I collapsed into my bed one night and saw Lefeli again when I closed my eyes, clutching her wound in disbelief and dying with tears streaming down her face. She had appeared in my dreams several times, ever relentless in her efforts even if it wasn’t her at all.

She always said the same thing, too. Why had I turned down Atlas’ offer? He had been right. All the people I loved here were dead. The familiarity had become haunting memories and my home had become a prison. Why did I have to become so lonely to realize this?

That night, like all the others, was slow and mercilessly regretful, and in the morning I dressed up in my usual skirt and vest and set out into the early spring weather.

The morning went fast with Tremie. Even though it was a weekend, I had asked to work extra to be away from my own head—though I didn’t tell her that—and so far, it had worked. Being at home, it seemed, was always the hardest part of life in this town.

This town. I say it like I don’t live here.

I looked up from my needlework at the sound of Tremie calling my name.

“Do come, Veia dear! Don’t lallygag!”

“Yes, yes,” I murmured, setting the fabric down and standing.

Before I reached Tremie, though, I froze in place at the sight of the person in front of her. Short hair, pitch black in contrast to her pale skin, hands on hips over her trousers and rough traveling jacket.

“Veia, what in the bloody, rotten, cursed death has taken you so long? We’ve been roaming around the area, waiting for you to say something, but you never did! What is wrong with you?”

I gaped, speechless, as Evyne Jeims strutted up to me and glared daggers, surveying me up and down. Her face softened. “What happened? You look like a wreck.”

Finally, I found my voice and half chuckled, half cried. “You know, that’s not surprising.”

And it finally clicked for me. After all this time of wanting to be home, it finally clicked that my home wasn’t with my family’s graves, nor was it in this ghost town of broken memories. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, taking a moment to accept it.

“What are you...?”

“Yep.” I nodded and looked at Evyne. “I’ve got it now.”

She furrowed her brows and looked as if she was about to say something, but I shushed her as I spotted a tall figure standing outside the shop.

“Aha!” I jumped past Evyne and Tremie and burst out the door of the shop to see exactly the person I’d been hoping to. I should have known he was responsible for this awful ache, the cursed scoundrel.

Atlas wore the same gray scarf he always did, his arm still stuck in a sling, his dark hair now pulled into a short ponytail at his neck. But his eyes melted a part of me that I hadn’t realized was frozen. Just seeing his face was like a waterfall of emotions.

He seemed to have his own waterfall of emotions as he stumbled backward in surprise, mouth agape.

But I didn’t mind. I crashed into him, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my face into his shoulder. “Hey, Atlas,” I laughed as we both teetered to regain balance.

“Veia, I—hi?” He looked down at me, blinking in surprise, and put a hand on my shoulder. I still hadn’t let go of him. “Are you okay?”

I felt bold. Crazy, even. “Atlas, can I do something for Evyne? It involves you.”

“What?” He glanced around, befuddled, then nodded. “What is it you’re wanting to—”

I cut him off by placing a hand on his cheek and kissing him. It felt so good, so right, and I couldn’t help but be angry with myself for refusing this. Atlas was tense at first, but he relaxed after a second like he’d been half expecting this. When I pulled away, though, he looked utterly astonished.

“Yes!” Evyne yelled from the doorway, laughing triumphantly. “Do that more often!”

Atlas flushed dramatically and tried to speak, but I pulled away from him and instead took his hand and reached for Evyne’s as well. “Let’s go, shall we? I want to go home.”

I glanced back at the shop where Tremie gawked dumbly for a moment, but she waved us off nonetheless, the fabric she’d been holding fallen to the ground at her feet.

“Home?” Atlas asked, turning to me as I pulled them both along.

“Well yeah.” It had taken me this long to realize it, but now more than ever, I was sure of my decision. “You said it yourself. Home is with the people you love.”