Page 32 of Witches of Honeysuckle House
“What’s a curse?” Evie asked.
“It means something bad happens,” Florence said.
“Bad things happen all the time,” Evie said. “Like mom forgetting you at school or getting mad about the broken flowerpots or yelling when I got honey stuck in my hair.”
“Not those kind of things,” Florence said. “Curses are much worse.”
“She cut off all my hair,” Evie said. “I guess curses must be pretty bad.”
“It’s like in Sleeping Beauty,” Angela said. “If the princess pricked her finger on a spindle, she’d fall asleep forever.”
“The wicked grandmother did that to her,” Evie said.
“Godmother,” Florence corrected.
“Do we have a wicked godmother?”
Florence considered the question. Her mother had never spoken to her about curses. “Not that I know of,” Florence said. “But I think they work like spells.”
“So someone cast a curse on us—”
All at once, both Evie and Florence clapped their hands over their ears, the ringing worse than it had ever been. After a few moments, it subsided. That was when it hit Florence. She’d learned about curses from books.
“Tell it to us like a story,” she said to Angela.
“You really think that will work?” Angela asked, doubtful.
Florence shrugged. “It depends on what my mom wanted the spell to do when she made the candle.”
“Make sure you start with ‘Once upon a time,’ ” Evie said as she tried—and failed—to put her necklace on. Angela leaned over and took it from her. She unclasped it and brought it around Evie’s neck.
“Once upon a time,” Angela said, “there was a family of witches who could cast spells with candles. They had a magical house at the edge of town. Though they were powerful, their magic wasn’t enough to protect them from bad things happening. Once every thirteen years, someone they loved died at that magical house.”
As the words sunk in, Florence’s heart stuttered.
“I don’t like this story,” Evie said. “It doesn’t have a happy ending.”
“Is it true?” Florence asked.
“In the story, it’s been happening since …” Angela paused. “The forties.”
Florence tried to think back to what she knew about the Caldwells who came before her. Her grandmother had died thirteen years ago, the same day Florence was born, but before that? Her mom didn’t talk about it.
If Florence’s family really was cursed, there were only four people she loved—her mom, her dad, her sister, and Angela.
“Your mom’s afraid it will be you,” Florence realized.
When Angela nodded, Florence took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“In the story, does it always happen at the house?” Florence asked.
“It does,” Angela said.
“Then we can’t be home tomorrow.” If all the deaths happened at Honeysuckle House, she thought, then being somewhere else might keep them safe.
“Maybe you can get your dad to take you somewhere,” Angela suggested.
“What about Mommy?” Evie asked.
