Page 7 of The Glittering Edge

Officer Erickson mumbles something, but he lets go of Alonso. “Ma’am, this is the second time this year these boys have gotten into a fight. Your son will be eighteen next year, and I won’t be so lenient anymore.”

“I understand.”

Officer Erickson crosses his arms. “Assuming you don’t want your son to have a criminal record, I’d like to suggest a mediation for your families. I know y’all have a complicated history, but maybe it’s time to put that behind you—”

Before Corey can stop himself, he says, “Respectfully, there’s no point. I think my family would agree with me.”

“We do,” his dad says. “There’s no way to mediate this mess.”

Alonso’s mom doesn’t bother responding. She just looks at Corey like he’s gum on the bottom of her shoe.

Officer Erickson looks back and forth between the two families, visible confusion on his face. He must be new. The rest of Idlewood’s tiny police force knows better than to encourage the Barrions and the De Lucas to “put the past behind them.” They all know the story of thefire that killed Corey’s grandmother at Meredith House almost fifty years ago.

But that wasn’t the last time a De Luca killed a Barrion.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to sort this out,” Officer Erickson says, trying to maintain an air of authority as the tension rises. “Don’t let it happen again.”

In a matter of seconds, the police officer is driving away, brake lights disappearing as he turns a corner in the distance.

Then it begins.

“I warned Corey your son would sabotage his night,” says Corey’s dad. His blond-and-gray hair shines with gel, and his suit is free of lines, even at midnight.

Vera De Luca ignores him. “Alonso,” she says, and he walks leisurely toward her, stretching his arms one by one as if he’s just finished a run around the neighborhood.

“Nothing to say?” Corey’s dad calls. “I guess that’s not surprising. You’ve won.”

Vera finally looks at him, her gaze cold and sharp, even in the dark. “We’vewon?”

“Your father got what he wanted,” James says. “Even from beyond the grave, Giovanni is destroying our family.”

“This is not—” Alonso’s mom starts, but she cuts herself off. After a moment, her face rearranges into a cold mask. This time, she smiles, like this is some petty disagreement. “You think we wanted to lose everything?”

Corey’s adrenaline is suddenly back, full throttle. He doesn’t want to feel this way. It’s almost addicting, this kind of anger. If Corey let it control him, how would he go on every day? How would he go to school, think about college, or even field questions about his mom without losing control?

That’s how Alonso operates. And Corey won’t let himself stoop to that level. When you’re one of the only Black kids in a small town, you can’t let them see you angry. So he pushes his feelings down, down,down, imagines locking them up and throwing away the key. When he lets himself breathe again, he feels nothing.

“Youlost everything?” Corey’s dad says. “How can you look at any of us and say that? Your ex-husband isn’t dead, Vera. He realized what he was married to, and he left. A wise man.”

Alonso whirls around, but before he can take three steps toward Corey’s dad, Warren appears beside him. He grabs Alonso by the arms, holding him in place.

Donna De Luca throws herself against the banister of their rotting porch. “Get your hands off him!” she growls, breathing smoke through her nose like a dragon.

“Rein in your progeny first,” Corey’s dad says.

“You and your family want to take from the people of this town until nothing is left,” Vera says. “That’s all you’ve ever done. But we were here before your family arrived, and we’ll be here after you’re all gone. I promise you that.”

Her words knock the air out of Corey’s lungs, and his voice is weak and winded. “I guess that was the whole point of this curse, wasn’t it? To get rid of us?”

Curse.

The word hangs in the air, the five letters that have defined Corey’s life.

There are lots of rumors in Idlewood. Rumors about why Kyla McGuinness keeps getting lead roles in the school musicals even though she can’t hit an A-flat, or about how Anita Emberly’s café only stays open because she’s sleeping with the landlord. And then there are countless rumors about the De Lucas. About what goes on behind the walls of their creepy, disintegrating old house.

Magic, children whisper.

Evil, old ladies say.

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