When I’m done catching them up, I say, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of this sooner. It’s not that I didn’t trust you, it was more I loved living this new life, as the new me. And if I let all this old bullshit in, it would destroy what I’ve become. And I really like who I am around you guys. I don’t want to be the heir to Grandma’s House, a magic dud, a powerless desperate hybrid. I just want to be Red. I want to get tattoos with you guys on weekends and do face masks while we watch shitty reality shows.”
Brushing angrily at a tear that escapes my eye, I’m not even brave enough to look at them. Instead, I stare into my chocolate-stained mug.
A long pause ensues.
“Well,” Goldie starts. “That is all . . . a lot. That’s a fuck ton to absorb. And honestly—”
My body tightens. Here it comes. I brace myself against the anger and accusations.
“—I don’t know how you’ve been dealing with this all on your own, you poor thing.”
I let out a little breath, but Goldie was always the quickest to forgive. I chance a look at Cinder who has a completely unreadable expression.
“Now that you’ve told us everything,” Cinder starts, “it makes perfect sense why you would keep all this to yourself.”
“So, you don’t hate me?” I say a little too hopefully.
Cinder rolls her eyes. “I could never hate you. The truth is, I’ve had some experience with mages and their bullshit. As much fun as watching those reality shows is, I know there is almost zero reality about them. And leaving everything you knew to start over must have been terrifying.”
I shrug one shoulder. “Sort of, but it also felt so right. Moving and starting over gave me a sense of freedom I never had from under my grandma’s shadow.”
“Hey,” Goldie says, nudging my shoulder with hers. “Fuck that. You’ve got your own power. You kick ass here every single night, you are a great friend, and the fact you can learn to trust us after all that is the true power. And so help me, if I see that dog again, I will set his tail on fire and shank him.” She grinds her teeth. Brexley really pulled the wool over her eyes, and she won’t take it lying down. I almost feel bad for him.
“Speaking of reinventing yourself,” Cinder adds, “Have they posted grades for your finance exam?”
My heart leaps up to my throat. I’d forgotten all about it. “Yeah,” I croak.
“Hey Red,” Rap calls from the hallway leading to her office. She emerges a second later with a box. “Another package from your grandma came in.”
My heart jumps even higher. I half expect Gigi to trail in behind Rap, but it’s just my hope creating delusions.
I recognize the format of the box. So do Goldie and Cinder. Goldie shoots up like a rocket. “I got it. I’ll take care of these,” she says with a cheeky grin at Rap.
Rap raises a skeptical eyebrow. “If you keep getting those sent here, you are going to have to share with me one of these days,” she warns before leaving us.
As soon as Rap leaves, Goldie turns and holds up the box. “Cookies!”
On my feet, I ask, “Is there a note? Maybe this is what everyone is looking for.”
She rips it off and hands it to me. I’m desperate for any clue it can provide. And while it contains Gigi’s usual message, there is an added line I don’t understand. Then I take the box and rip it open. It’s just a pile of delicious cookies. I grab a platter and empty the cookies onto it, checking the box for clues. Goldie pushes the cookies around to see if anything is among them.
“Nothing,” she reports.
My shoulders slump as I drop back into my seat and set the box aside. I didn’t find anything either.
“At least we still have cookies,” Cinder gives me a weak smile.
Investigating one of the round, crumbly sweets, Goldie says, “How did I not see that these cookies are from the same baking genius who makes Magic Morsels?” Then she pushes them back into the original box.
“Because Magic Morsels taste like trash compared to the homemade cookies from the big G, herself,” Cinder points out.
Goldie sits down next to us on the couch. “Does your grandma use magic to make these cookies?”
I shake my head, showing them the tag. “Nope, just love and lard.”
Cinder leans over Goldie and takes the tag from me and reads the extra line. “And a little something extra.”
“That’s different, usually it’s always love and lard,” Goldie says.
