Page 95 of Big Little Spells

“I called a meeting,” I announce to the dim, quiet living room. Cassie is curled by the fire and only opens one eye at me, then closes it, like she’s bored. Or maybe telling me to get on with it.

“You...” Emerson trails off. She stands there, door still open, her hair a tousled mess. Still half-asleep. “You did what now?”

I want to smile. Somehow, I’ve caught Emerson off guard. I’m the one put together, ready to set things to rights. And she is the one still struggling to pull herself out of sleep.

It’s like Freaky Friday and I love it.

But this isn’t the time for little sister goals. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

Emerson squints at the pretty picture window in the living room that looks out over some of Jacob’s fields. “The sun isn’t even up.”

“No, it isn’t.”

She rubs her hands over her face. “I was up late. I was worried.” When she drops her hands, her expression shows hurt. “You blocked me.”

My self-satisfaction fades at that. Because I didn’t consciously block her or anyone, but it fits, doesn’t it? Everything my grandmother said. What I did then. What I did last night.

The fact I thought I was so alone that I let myself fall from the sky, but Emerson was trying to reach out to me the whole time.

It’s been a long night of facing myself and much as I’d like to, I don’t back away from that now. “I’m sorry.”

“For which part?”

“All of it. Everything.”

She frowns, and then shoves her hands in the pockets of her robe like she doesn’t know what to do with them, and I think I’ve never adored her more.

“Emerson,” I say, and my voice cracks over her name. “I saw Grandma last night.”

Her hands sneak back up to cover her mouth, like she’s happy for me, but emotional about it, and I tell her everything. It pours out of me.

Not just about Grandma and what happened ten years ago. What I ran from, why I did it.

I tell her about flying so high I nearly made my nose bleed. And Nicholas catching me when I fell.

I tell her what I feel for him—what I’ve always felt for him. And all the secrets I kept growing up that I thought were parts of who I am, but now realize were the trophies I collected to prove I was worthless all along.

The real treasures were love, and I kept those apart, tucked away under the floorboards. Or texts calling me sweet girl where no one else can see them.

As I tell her these things, there are parts that don’t surprise her and parts that clearly do. She’s long since magicked us some coffee, and despite the fact I don’t usually mess with caffeine, I drink from the mug she gives me. We’re sitting on Jacob’s couch the way we used to sit in our favorite window seat in Wilde House. Feet tucked up, facing each other, almost touching.

This doesn’t mean we don’t have things to talk out. We do. We probably always will.

But I know we’re going to be okay.

It’s not something I see. It’s something I know. In my heart.

“It’s not that I don’t understand the black magic thing,” Emerson says, holding her coffee mug between her hands. “Maybe it wasn’t right, but I understand. They were determined to smack us down and they were unfair. Cheating, even. We both tried to prove them wrong in our own way. And, you know, I was planning treason. If off the bricks.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. “You didn’t think of it that way, though. You were all about justice. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I can’t even say I was trying to prove myself, not really. They hurt you. I wanted to hurt them. I wanted to do something terrible, so why not dark magic?”

Emerson looks thoughtful. “Neither of us handled it right. But how could we? How could any of us? I tried to barrel on. Jacob tried to stand in front of me, not with me. You tried to show them up, and Nicholas let you run away rather than working with you.” She lifts a hand to rub at her temple. “We were teenagers, though. Well, three of us were.”

“Nicholas prefers to be opaque.”

She doesn’t smile. “We aren’t teenagers anymore, Rebekah. You should have told us when you came back. You should have told me.”

“I should have.” I keep my gaze on her. I hide nothing. “I just...wasn’t ready.”

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