Page 23 of The Glittering Edge

That must be why Corey is so taken aback by the force of Penny’s words, by her willingness to even ask these questions. Grudgingly, Corey respects her for it. But he still can’t tell her the truth.

“I guess they were friends,” Corey says. “Your mom had an accident, and my aunt helped her out.”

Penny looks him dead in the eyes. “You know what my mom said to me today? When she found out I was at your party last night?”

“How would I know—”

“She told me to stay away from your family. And I want to know why.”

Corey opens his mouth, but he can’t speak.

Letting their families think it’s an accident is easier, Corey’s grandpa always says.It brings more closure.

Corey has always bought into that logic—until tonight. Because the thing that has defined Corey’s entire life is suddenly going to define Penny’s life, too. If Corey was in Penny’s position, wouldn’t he want to know if his mother’s death was for a reason—that it wasn’t chance that killed her, but a bitter witch whose grudge will live longer than he ever did?

Penny’s phone vibrates again. The nameRON WILLISappears on the screen, but she sends it to voice mail. She presses her phone to her chest. “I left home without telling my godfather. He’s going to have a meltdown.”

“Then you should go.”

“No,” Penny says, her voice shaking. “I’m not going anywhere until you give me an explanation.”

There it is again: that unexpected, grudging respect. But the way Penny is looking at him is strange. Her eyes are full of judgment.

No, not judgment. Blame.

Corey can’t let her blame this on him. On his family. They’ve worked too hard and suffered too much for that.

If Penny wants someone to blame, Corey can give her that much.

“Okay,” he says, his shoulders slumping. “Okay.”

Around them, wind rustles the trees. The rest of the parking lot and the road beyond it are completely deserted.

Corey has never so badly wanted to be another person, one who doesn’t know magic exists. But he’s a Barrion, and so he forces the words out:

“That necklace is the only thing keeping your mom alive.”

Corey

BEFORE COREY’S MOM DIED, HIS DAD GAVE HIM SOME ADVICE.

“The hardest thing to control is ourselves,” James said. “But if you learn to deny yourself the things you want, you’ll always end up exactly where you want to be.”

After his mom died, Corey interpreted that in a different way: If he could keep everyone around him at a distance—if he could learn to control his life like he was a character in a video game, with set outcomes from every action he took—that would keep people safe. It would keep them alive. And the first step was to ensure nobody ever found out about the curse.

So why does telling the truth feel less like a mistake and more like a confession?

In the parking lot under the dim lights, Corey’s lungs expand. It’s as if he hasn’t breathed in years. But when he sees Penny’s face, the relief disappears. Because she’s staring at Corey like he just admitted to discovering alien life.

“That makes no sense,” she says, her voice small.

“I know.” Corey’s mind runs through a dozen ways he could begin this story. “My family… we’re…”

How will you explain this? She’ll think you’re insane.

Keep quiet. It’s easier.

You’ll be safe that way.

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