Page 90 of Witches of Honeysuckle House
When she pulled back, there were wet handprints on the back of her blouse.
“I’m going to go mix us a couple of Negronis,” Violet said, a little breathless. They drank Manhattans when Regina was around, because it was her drink of choice. But Tillie preferred gin.
“Who needs a drink when someone kisses you like that?” Tillie asked, voice husky.
Violet leaned over once more, planting a small kiss on Tillie’s cheek. She hurried into the hall. A splash came from the room behind her, and Violet smiled, letting herself relive the moment, reminding herself this was what life was about—love and joy and being seen.
As she reached the staircase, she ran right into Regina.
Her sister took a step back, bringing her close to Violet’s height. They stood there for a few moments in silence. Regina opened her mouth to speak with something like hope in her eyes, but Violet held up a hand.
“I think you’ve said enough tonight.”
Regina frowned, but before she could reply, the house started to moan, as if the pipes were about to burst. It was a desperate sort of sound, and though Violet wanted to reassure the house she would patch what Regina had broken between them, she couldn’t make that promise.
“Vi …” Regina started to say, but Violet turned back the way she came. Tillie was right. They didn’t need gin with a love like theirs.
As much as Violet wanted to run for the bathroom, to leave her sister behind and crawl into Tillie’s arms, she held her head high and walked slowly. She wouldn’t let Regina get the best of her. But as soon as she rounded the corner, she picked up her pace. When she rested her hand on the doorknob, she took a long deep breath.
“No Negronis,” she said as she stepped inside. “I ran into—”
Violet stopped short.
Tillie lay in the tub, her arms hanging limp over the edge, almost like she’d fallen asleep.
“Tillie?”
There was no response.
“Tillie,” Violet said again, this time louder.
When Tillie didn’t move, Violet ran toward her, slipping on water that had spilled over the edge. She steadied herself with a hand on the wall. Then, she dropped to her knees. Tillie’s eyes were open and unblinking, her lips blue. Violet grabbed her by the shoulders, trying to lift her out of the tub, but she was too heavy for Violet to move on her own.
“Regina!” Violet screamed her sister’s name. “Help me!”
Within moments, Regina was there in the doorway. Violet held Tillie by the arms.
“What happened?” Regina asked, shock in her voice.
There was no time to explain. “Grab her legs.”
Together they lifted Tillie from the tub. Water splashed over the edges, drenching them both. Once they had her on the ground, Violet dropped to her knees, squeezed Tillie’s nose, and brought her mouth to Tillie’s. She breathed and breathed and breathed, but no matter how many times she tried to force air into Tillie’s lungs, Tillie never coughed up the water.
Violet rested a hand on Tillie’s chest, right above her heart. It moved weakly beneath her palm.
Thump.
Thump.
Then, it stopped.
Violet thought her heart might have stopped with it. Fear clawed at her throat, and tears sprang up in her eyes.
“No,” she whispered.
As the words left her mouth, the walls started to shake. The tap on the sink and the faucet in the tub turned on, like the house, too, was crying. She pressed her ear to Tillie’s chest, listened for one more beat, but she was met with only the groaning of the pipes.
A sob tore from her throat.
