Page 97 of Demise

The signature facetime ringtone echoes in the morning air as I wait and wait for a connection. Finally, it goes through, Steph’s panicked face filling up the phone.

“Sky? Is everything okay? What happened?”

I don’t bother trying to reassure her that everything is fine because, honestly, I’m not so sure that it is.

“Was mom a witch?”

She looks stunned at my question for several seconds before she speaks.

“What? A witch? No, of course not. Why would you think that?’

“Apparently, that’s what people in Salem think, or at least suspect. It’s what Horris Hutchinson thinks.”

Her eyes squint before understanding dawns on her.

“The eldest member of the Hutchinson family? He’s still alive?”

“And kicking,” I answer. “He asked me if I bleed black.”

Steph’s brows furrow at that. “Why on earth would he even ask that? If you did, you wouldn’t be standing here. Especially after the ceremony.”

My eyes bug out at her response. “Steph, no one bleeds black! What the fuck is this shit?”

Her mouth opens and closes before she shakes her head.

“It’s just what we were taught growing up, hun. What we were told was the truth. You’d be amazed what Brethren kids are taught and warped into believing.”

“I’m sure it’s extensive, but I want to know exactly what happened to Mom. Horris said that the Coven was becoming stronger right around the time Mom died. Did she help them? Was she one of them? Give me something here, Steph. While you’re safe, tucked away in London, I’m in the goddamn lion’s den and I can’t even get a straight answer out of the one person I’m supposed to trust wholly.”

She closes her eyes, letting out a deep breath as she shakes her head.

“Your mom was not a witch, Skyla. Trust me. We were both born and raised inside the Brethren; our lineage traces back to the right side of history.”

“So, she could have picked it up?” I challenge.

“She didn’t,” Steph snaps. “She would never. Her death came at a high pressure time in our world, and no doubt was a cause because of that pressure. Your father was always a shorttempered prick, as was Putnam. I’ve told you before, you can’t convince me it wasn’t one of them.”

I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair as I look at her.

“Why did you keep all of this from me? All these years?”

“What would it have changed, Sky? No matter how much you hate Henry, you still have to see him. You still have to play the part. I knew if you heard the truth, you wouldn’t be able to do what it takes to survive, and I need you to survive. I can’t live without you.”

Shaking my head, something still feeling off in my gut, I blow out an irritated breath.

“So, that’s it then? There is nothing more to tell me? Nothing more that you know?”

She shakes her head sadly, and I wish I could believe her. I really do. Maybe I don’t because I already feel so betrayed by this person that I always thought to be open and honest. Maybe I don’t because I’m emotional and desperate for some kind of sense to come out of all of this. Or maybe I don’t because I know deep down, there has to be way more to it. To my mother’s death, to the Brethren, to this supposed ‘Coven,’ whatever that is.

Clearly, I won’t be getting anything more out of her, though. Shaking my head once more, my finger goes to the end call button.

“I gotta go,” I say as I hang up the phone.

“Wait, Sky—” she calls out as the signal goes dead.

“Who was that?” Ronan asks, making me practically jump out of my skin as he steps onto the back porch, two mugs in his hands.

I let out a heavy breath, watching as the frigid morning air displays the path before it dissipates. Ronan offers one of themugs to me and I take it happily, tasting the comforting flavor of apples and cinnamon on my tongue, hold the sedatives this time.

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