Page 35 of Witches of Honeysuckle House
“No one is going to die today,” Florence said.
Evie nodded once, determined. Florence took her hand and started for the door. The vines poked through the gaps around the hinges. Florence rested one hand on the knob. It warmed beneath her touch, and one of the vines crept across the wood to brush against her knuckles. A honeysuckle flower bloomed.
“I think the house is wishing you a happy birthday,” Evie said.
Florence felt a sad sort of warmth in the center of her chest. She leaned her forehead against the door and tried her hardest not to cry.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
She swiped at her tears, picked the flower, and tucked it behind her ear. “It’s okay,” she said to the house. “You can let us out.”
The vines receded, and a few seconds later, the lock turned. The door opened slowly enough to creak, but it didn’t make a sound. Florence stuck her head out. She peeked down the hallway to find her father making his way toward her, two duffle bags in hand.
“Dad?” Florence whispered.
He held a finger over his lips.
Evie ducked underneath Florence’s arm and ran for him. She wrapped her arms around him, and he rested a hand on the top of her head. She winced, retreating from his touch and revealing the dried blood from the night before. His brow furrowed as he looked up, meeting Florence’s eyes. She gently gripped her own shoulder.
“Did your mother do this?”
She nodded, her tears once again threatening to spill over as her throat constricted and her whole chest went hot.
“She threw Florence against the wall,” Evie said before she buried her face into his side.
“We found out about …” Florence paused. “Today. And her spell to keep it from us.”
Shame flashed across her father’s face, and he pulled Evie closer to him.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You knew?” Florence asked, the heat growing into something like betrayal. She clenched her hands into fists.
“She thought it would be better for both of you if you didn’t. The way this town talks … I agreed with her. At least until you were ready.” He shook his head. “We can talk about this later. Let’s get to the car. I wanted to go last night—we’d been talking about it all week—but …” He looked over his shoulder.
“She stopped you,” Florence said. “Why?”
Robert shook his head. “I don’t know.”
He gestured for her to follow. Florence ran toward him, and together, the three of them made their way to the stairs then down and out the front door. Robert opened the trunk of their hatchback and tossed the bags in. He slammed it shut, turned to his girls, and grabbed them in a hug.
“Let’s go celebrate your birthday,” he said to Florence.
She bit her lip and nodded, unable to speak without crying.
“Is Mommy coming?” Evie asked.
“Not this time, sweetpea,” Robert said as he opened the back door for her.
“My necklaces!” Evie said. Florence had taken them off and put them on the nightstand while Evie was sleeping, afraid they would get tangled up in her hair.
“We can get them tomorrow,” Florence said.
But Evie shook her head. “I need them. The crystal is supposed to protect us.” She started toward the steps, when Florence grabbed her by the hand.
“We can’t go back in there.”
“I can’t go without them!” Evie protested.
