Page 62 of Live To Tell

My face sours and I shove the book away, pulling out my phone instead. He arches a brow and I huff before placing it back in my pocket.

“Where does Madison supposedly live now?” asks Rowan. “If she ‘left the family’, someone must know where she went.”

“Like I said, the story is Madison turned her back on us because my parents tried to stifle her magic. They argued and never spoke again.” He looks at Rowan. “Families do that—especially witches.”

“Why?” asks Leif.

He shrugs. “Older generations can feel threatened by younger ones holding more power. Sure, some are proud of their kids’ abilities, but others... not so much.”

“And can we talk to your parents?” I say. “Where do they live?”

“Dead,” he says expressionlessly.

“That’s rather unfortunate and not at all helpful.” I bite back the frustration—I’ve lost my first lead in the investigation. Rowan’s foot meets my leg again. “Good grief, Rowan. If I bruised like a normal person, my ankles would be permanently covered since you kick me that often.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Julius,” says Rowan, and looks pointedly at me.

“Losses,” I correct. “And yes, condolences. How did your parents die?”

Rowan groans. “Only tell us if you want and if it’s relevant.”

“No. If Julius wants our help, he must tell us absolutely everything,” I retort.

He shakes his head, bemused. “My favorite color is navy blue, my favorite food is ramen, and I enjoy watching true crime documentaries.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sarcasm, Violet,” says Leif.

“Oh. Droll. Everything relevant,” I say. “Although the true crime documentaries interest me.”

Julius uncrosses his arms. “My father apparently died of a heart attack a couple of years back, but I hadn’t seen him for a long time since he left, and my mother remarried. She died of cancer last year. If there was any foul play, the killer waited a long time to strike.”

“And your parents knew nothing? Did they tell you the story?” asks Rowan.

“Yes. A few times. I wanted to catch them out in case anything contradicted, but the story never changed: Madison left because our parents held her back. They were strict.” He links his fingers together in front of him. “Dad didn’t like speaking about her and Mum would get upset if I hinted she might be dead. She never took down any family photos in the house and she always believed Madison would return.”

“And you’ve no photos of the guy in the photograph I showed you?” I ask. He shakes his head. “Did your parents ever mention boyfriends?”

“If Madison had one, she never told them.”

“Strict?” asks Leif.

“Maybe.”

“Or maybe Madison didn’t want them to know who the guy was. Or is. He might be alive, and we need to find him too,” I say. “Is Mrs. Eldridge lying that she has no records from the Confederacy days?”

“As far as I know, that’s the truth. Isn’t your father more likely to have those?”

“Almost nothing survived.” I sigh. “And what do you have? Where’s the evidence you promised? Show us.” His eyes narrow. “Please.”

Rowan sits forward, elbows on his knees and hands beneath his chin. “Will you trust us and share everything you’ve uncovered?”

Julius looks at me for much longer than many do before leaning down to unfasten a leather satchel. He pulls out a small notebook decorated with cat and rainbow stickers, an A4 brown envelope, and a manila file. Silently, he places them on the table closest to him.

“Madison’s diary. Photos she took.” He takes the envelope and tips out the photos, along with a small rectangular item. “A USB with the recordings of Madison and friends that I found on her old laptop. Mum left everything in her room like a shrine—part of her certainty Madison would come back. Mum moved to a new house five years ago and only then did I get the chance to take her things.”

“A youess what?” I scratch my chin.

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