Page 12 of Midnight Waters

It wasn’t a bad thing that she had moved on. Spirits that stayed often had unfinished business or emotional burdens holding them back. If she was gone, she at least had a happy, fulfilling life.

I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on them.

My aunts had especially supported Dad after Mum died, so I had some female influence in my life. But I had always envied Isadora’s and Rose’s relationships with their mothers. From what Dad told me growing up, Mum would have made a wonderful mother and a great friend.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you lately, but I’ll be around more now.” I ran my fingers over the letters of her name: Celeste Arrowood.

Not her original name.

Mum had arrived on the island with no memory of her past, including what species of supernatural she was. The family had guessed she was a witch based on her magical capabilities.

A sharp breeze ruffled my hair, and a chill rippled across my shoulders.

“I’ll be back, Mum. I love you.” I stood and rested my hand on top of her gravestone.

The wind kicked up as I picked my way across the garden to the kitchen door, and once I had stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me.

Allison jumped, spilling coffee all over the breakfast bar.

“We thought you’d run away again.” Kira cracked an egg into a sizzling frying pan on the giant farmhouse kitchenette.

A family this big needed all eight hobs daily. London had shocked me with its tiny apartments and kitchens. I hadn’t realised until moving into my flat that our giant kitchen island and plethora of cabinets was actually a rarity.

“So you thought you’d raid my kitchen?” I grabbed the full coffee pot and poured myself a cup.

“Again, we’re family. This is our kitchen.” Kira gestured around the room with a spatula. “Now sit your butt down. I’m making breakfast.”

Alison and I exchanged exasperated looks as I joined her at the breakfast bar.

“What shall we do today?” Alison leaned across the bar to grab a paper towel and mopped up her spill. “Shall we get ice cream and go see the petrified dragon like we used to?”

“You’re obsessed with that dragon.” I brought my cup to my face and inhaled the scent of roasted goodness.

“Yeah, we’re three more visits away from staging an intervention,” Kira said over her shoulder.

“You two are insane,” Alison said, throwing the balled-up paper towel at me. “That hunk of rock used to be a dragon. An actual dragon. How is that not amazing to you?”

“Someone could have just carved it and said it was a real dragon,” Kira said.

I picked up the paper towel and chucked it at Kira. It bounced off the back of her head and she spun around to glare at me.

“We agreed we wouldn’t ever say that out loud,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, well, she’s old enough to know Santa isn’t real.”

“You’re both super mean,” Alison said and drank from her mug.

The sound of the front door opening and shutting had me checking my phone. Eight a.m.

Most of the family worked for themselves or the family businesses, except Sandra. This meant a lot of work flexibility and a general culture of rising late the day after a family emergency.

Who was up this early?

Dad walked in fully dressed, shedding his coat.

“Have you been out already?” I asked.

“Yes. Hello, girls,” he added, waving to Kira and Alison. “I got a call from the chief a few hours ago. There’s been an incident.”

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