Page 87 of Big Little Spells

All of them stare at me.

The ring on my hand pulses and I curl my hand around it, sure it’s my grandmother, expressing her disappointment in me. Again.

When that almost killed me the first time.

Emerson looks up at Jacob, and he nods and creates a bubble around us. Meant to keep anything we say from nosy ears.

I brace myself.

“We all know that the Joywood like to play their games...” Emerson manages to say.

I shake my head, almost wrecked right there by her determination to make this okay. To make me okay. “No. I did it. Everything on that screen.”

Isn’t that what all my years in recovery taught me? That taking responsibility is about the terrible moments, the awful times. It isn’t as simple as charging along, doing things. Sometimes it’s doing the far harder work of facing up to what you did, what you can’t take back. It’s letting the people you love see the truth, even if it means you’ll lose them.

“Why?” Georgie asks.

They’re all looking at me for an answer to that.

“I knew they were wrong,” I croak. The old words, the old defenses. “I felt them wipe Emerson. They mind wiped her without letting anyone—”

“Not why did you do it, Rebekah,” Ellowyn corrects me. “Though on the bricks, sweet gods, what were you thinking? But that’s not what’s important. What’s important is why you didn’t tell us? All this time.”

“They cursed you?” Emerson suggests hopefully, sniffling and wiping at her tears.

They’re all looking at me, hoping for some miracle. Giving me the benefit of the doubt. Hoping there’s some explanation. But there’s not.

“No.”

“You just...didn’t want to tell us,” Ellowyn says. Flatly.

I could tell her I was embarrassed. Hurt. Wounded. I could give her any number of lectures on restitution and healing and amends.

But I say nothing.

“Maybe we should all take a little break here,” Georgie says gently, clearly worried about Emerson’s emotional well-being. Emerson doesn’t cry. She doesn’t break down. “Let everyone calm down.”

Emerson nods, though she looks lost. “I need some time to think. We’ll meet tomorrow.”

My sister, the queen of fixing all the things right away, needs time to think.

And she’s looking at me like she sees a stranger.

She jerks her gaze away. In my head, she’s silent. She and Jacob share some communication, and he nods. Then they’re gone in a whoosh.

I feel like half of me has shriveled up and died. Again. I look at Ellowyn, but she’s unreadable. Georgie’s expression isn’t any clearer. They’re still holding on to each other.

“Tomorrow,” Georgie says eventually, and then she and Ellowyn fly off.

“I’ve got to get to the bar,” Zander says. He isn’t looking at me. He’s looking in the direction of the river. “You shouldn’t stay here alone.”

But he doesn’t offer to stay or walk me home.

On some level, I knew this would happen eventually—didn’t I? That everyone who matters to me would finally know the truth. And I would finally be alone. Not because I was exiled by the Joywood. But because I don’t deserve to be anything but.

I broke all those rules—those sacred bonds—we were taught. And I kept everything from my friends, lying by omission.

I made sure the Joywood could use my mistakes against me. Twice.

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