Page 59 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
The kids.Minna was still a kid herself, and she’d been near the tree, way too near—what if she’d been struck? Beatrice’s pulse juddered in her throat again.
Next to her, Reno tapped the back of her hand, then pointed to her own chest. She took a deep breath in, then let it out just as slowly.
Gratefully, Beatrice mimicked the motion.
“So that’s the story. The end. Magic for the win. I told her about divine intention, Gran, but maybe you can explain that—”
Astrid shook her head. “That wasn’t magic. That wasn’t divine intention.”
The cap of Beatrice’s water bottle slipped out of her hand.
Cordelia folded her lips as if she agreed but didn’t want to.
Astrid continued, “Magic requires intention and energy. A miracle is a gift. Plain and simple.”
Now Beatrice was confused. “I did say the spell. I put intention into it.”
“But you didn’t finish saying it?”
Dumbly, Beatrice shook her head.
Astrid’s expression looked almost kind. “There you go. You were given the gift anyway. I’m not sure why you look so upset. Miracles are good things.”
Miracle number three.
In a very quiet voice, Minna said, “Do you think, maybe, the person we were trying to reach—Sienna, I mean—was the one who told us to run?”
Cordelia leaned forward as if her stomach hurt. “I don’t know, baby.”
“Oh.”
Cordelia looked at Beatrice. “Three miracles down.”
No, Minna didn’t need to know about the prediction. “Don’t—”
“Only four to go.”
Minna’s expression was horrified. “Wait. What’s going on?”
Beatrice had no idea what to say.
“Mom?”
Gently, Cordelia said, “Keelia has a sister named Winnie who’s just moved to town. I haven’t met her yet, but I know from what Keelia says that she’s the real deal. Aunt Beatrice received a prediction, from her and another psychic. She—um—might be dying, but before she does, she’ll experience seven miracles.”
It took Minna only two or three slow blinks to digest it. “That was the third miracle? The tree house?”
I don’t believe in any of this.But something kept Beatrice from saying the words out loud.
“It might have been.” Cordelia took her hand. “We’ll figure it out, though. Stronger together, right?”
Astrid had gone so pale that her skin resembled the undyed fiber in the basket perched next to her. “Winnie said that?”
Cordelia nodded.
Astrid glared at Beatrice. “Who was the other psychic?”
Reluctantly, Beatrice muttered, “Evie Oxby.”
