Page 84 of Ruined Wolfsbane

“Oh, Bun Bun. I’m so sorry.” I squeeze Ava tighter as she buries her face in my hair. Her slight frame shakes with her silent tears. With one hand, I rub her back in an attempt to soothe her. I hate that she had to worry about me. That’s not her job. As the big sister, I’m supposed to keep her safe from stuff like this.

When she’s done crying, Ava wipes her nose on my hospital gown. I snort. That’s such an Ava thing to do. She gives me a sheepish smile as she wipes the leftover tears from her red-rimmed hazel eyes. “I don’t ever have to see Dad again, do I?”

“Nope. You never have to see Patrick again if you don’t want to.” I’m not even sure I’d let her see him if she did. He’s unhinged, which makes him dangerous.

“Why do you call Patrick dad, Ava Bean?” Uncle Vale asks.

Ava scrunches up her nose and squints at him in distaste. “Ugh, I’m thirteen now. I’m way too old for that nickname, Uncle Vale,” Ava sasses. I giggle at how offended she is. She shoots me a dirty look, and I raise my hands in surrender. “I call him that because he’s my dad.”

“He’s not, Avie. Connor’s your dad. You just never got to meet him, honey.” Aunt Abbie’s eyes fill with tears. She battles them back with a few blinks, refusing to let them fall.

“Who’s Connor?” both Ava and I ask at the same time. We grin at each other because great minds think alike.

“He was your dad. Both of you,” Uncle Vale answers, head tilted in thought.

“I’ve always wondered what my dad’s name was,” I murmur under my breath. With no memory of the man, I obviously didn’t know his name.

“Wait? Patrick’s not my dad?” Ava’s eyes are as wide as saucers, and she looks horrified. I’m about to comfort her when a megawatt smile splits her face. “Oh my God! That’s the best news I’ve heard in forever. Other than Rosie being okay, of course.”

“That means we’re full sisters,” I inform her. Ava squeals and hugs me so tightly I’m worried she’s going to choke me. While I try not to die of asphyxiation from Ava’s enthusiastic hug, I lock eyes with the redhead standing awkwardly in the corner.

“Hey, Bri. I would ask you how you’re feeling, but you look like shit.”

I wheeze out a laugh at her apt description. Ava loosens her arms, realizing she’s hugging a bit too tight. “Thanks. That’s what I aim for, looking like shit.” She grins at me, and it feels like I know her from somewhere. “Not to be rude, but who are you?” Her face falls, and I feel like a terrible person. I’m usually great at remembering names, but I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what her name is.

“You don’t remember me?” Her voice wobbles. I shake my head while biting my lip, feeling like garbage for forgetting.

“She’s your cousin, Bee, and we think Evie took Briar’s memories before she passed, Emmy.” Uncle Vale walks over to Emmy and wraps her in a hug. She accepts the comfort for a long moment before stepping out of his hold.

I have a cousin?

My head is spinning with everything I’ve learned since waking up. It all feels like too much. I push my breakdown until later, hopefully holding it off until I’m alone.

“Why would she do that?” Emmy questions.

“Patrick was blackmailing her.” Everyone in the room turns to look at me with varying levels of shock and rage. “He gloated about it before trying to kill me. He threatened to hurt me if she didn’t do what he wanted. I’m guessing whatever memories she took, Mama thought I’d be safer without them.”

“Damn. That’s really fucked-up. I’m so sorry about Aunt Evie, Bri.” Emmy looks almost as devastated over my mom as I feel.

“Me too.” I give Emmy a half smile. She returns it with a barely there tilt of her lips.

“Can you restore her memories?” Aunt Abbie looks at Emmy with hope brimming in her eyes.

Emmy’s shaking her head before Aunt Abbie even finishes. “I don’t know what spell or potion Aunt Evie used to take Bri’s memories. Without knowing that, anything I can try might cause permanent amnesia. Do you know what she used or who made it for her?”

I blanch at the thought of permanently losing my memories. Yeah, I’d rather not. Hard pass.

Reaching up around my neck, I unclasp Mama’s wolfsbane locket. Now I know why she always loved wolfsbane flowers. It was the key to unlocking her wolf. A lump forms in my throat at what happened instead.

My eyes water. Nope, no more crying today. I’ve reached my quarterly limit of tears. Please try again never.

“Her locket might have an answer. I had a trippy dream before waking up where I talked to Mama. So, this may not work.” Looking at the locket, I remember that I need blood. I yank out the IV. The Wyldhart brothers shout in alarm, but I ignore them. I carefully drip exactly three drops of blood onto the front of the locket. The blood runs through the grooves of the wolfsbane flower, turning it crimson. “Ad astra per aspera,” I whisper.

The locket makes grinding and clicking noises, like gears turning. When the noise stops, the front springs open. I peer inside, spotting a tiny folded-up piece of paper. Turning over the locket, I shake it over my palm until the scrap of paper falls out. With trembling fingers, I carefully unfold it.

On the paper is an address in I don’t recognize.

121 1st St, Los Altos

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