Page 92 of Switching Graves

Ava shakes her head. “These journals recount a very different history than what we’ve been told about the townandthe university. We owe it to the people who suffered and every future student who comes here to ensure that the events are recorded accurately and respectfully to those who have passed.”

“Spoken like a true historian,” Jonah mutters.

“I feel a responsibility to this kid,” I add, tapping on the cover of the journal. “Maybe it’s because I’m the one who found the journals, I don’t know. I just feel like he deserves to have his side told.”

“Matilda can channel the dead. I wonder if she can reach him,” Beatrix chirps.

Jonah rolls his eyes.

This time, Beatrix doesn’t bother arguing. Instead, she flings her fist out and punches her brother in the arm. He cries out, cradling his bicep with his opposite hand while Ava shouts at them to stop fighting.

My eyes shift back to the journal.

“Let’s go today,” I say, hopping off the couch.

The three of them stare at me like I’ve got three heads. “Today?” Ava asks hesitantly, tracking my movements as I grab up my phone and keys from the side table and stuff them into my purse hanging on the back of my door.

“Yes. It’s Saturday, so we’re allowed. It’s a new month, so Jonah and I can visit town again. Seems like the perfect time.”

“I thought we were having a Housewives marathon,” Jonah complains, pushing out his lower lip in a pout as he casts longing glances toward my TV.

“We can do that tomorrow. We all know none of us has any plans.” Technically, I do with Dr. Whitlock, but they don’t need to know about that. We already share too much, and I don’t want to tell anyone else until I talk to Poppy about it.

Beatrix and Ava share a look, and when they realize there’s no real reasonnotto go, they each shrug.

“I guess we’re going to see Matilda,” Beatrix concedes.

An hour later, we’re walking through the front door of Matilda’s shop. She’s standing in the front window, half-heartedly sorting through crystals with one eye on the door, as if she expected us. We hardly share a greeting before she waves her hand to follow her to the, her expression somber.

“We wanted to see if you could connect with a boy who passed quite some time ago,” Beatrix explains with a shaking voice as we pass through the store. “As a fellow Luminara, we hoped you could help.”

“I know who you’re speaking of. He lived a long and fruitful life and does not want to be disturbed again until he can go into eternal rest.” Matilda’s words are clipped, leaving no room for argument.

“It would be nice if we could ask him some questions,” Beatrix tries anyway.

Her tone is laced with an irritation I would have never expected her to have toward Matilda. It just proves how much Finley has come to mean to all of us.

Turning on her heel to face me, Matilda says, “You know the answers.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You have the gift of sight, yes? Aeternum blood flows through your veins,” she prods, raising a brow as if she already knows. “Perhaps something else, as well.”

I scowl, shaking my head in denial. “No. No, that’s not what that is.”

“Sure, it is. You are a window to the past, just as your ancestors were.” Shaking her finger, she adds, “You know, your mother could hear their voices.”

On instinct, my eyes flick over toward my friends at the mention of my mom. Somehow, I know she isn’t referring to Divina, though I had no idea my mom had experience with oddities like mine.

Ava crosses her arms. “No, Poppy is Valerian,” she insists, sucking in her upper lip.

Lowering her voice, Matilda tilts her head toward them and looks at me. “Should we speak alone, or are you ready to tell them?”

“Tell us what?” Beatrix prods.

“You’ve hardly given me a choice, have you?” I bite out, glaring at the old woman.

With a soft, sad smile, she nods. “There is no going back if you choose to move forward. Not after you’ve made the same choice as your mother. She’s so proud of you, by the way.”

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