“Yeah, I can imagine. But she never suspected who it might be?”
“Nah, she just referred to the criminals as hooligans.”
Ophelia’s eyebrows raised. “Criminals? Plural? She thought there was more than one person that did this?”
“Not for any reason other than that they left a huge mess. Itjust seemed like something several people had to do in a short period of time before anyone noticed. It would take longer for one person to trash the place to this degree.” Avery passed the phone back to Ophelia.
“Well,” she said. “I wish I had more to tell you, but I only uncovered one link between all the victims. Sonnier was a priest at Devillier’s church before he was excommunicated. It’s possible they knew each other.”
Avery hummed. “It’s definitely possible.”
Ophelia reached for Avery’s large hand. “I’ll keep looking.”
“Thank you, but you don’t have to.”
“I know. I want to, though.”
Avery nodded in understanding. It’s hard to let things go unanswered, especially for Ophelia, who believed the killer was in the details.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Mateo: I miss you, my wild one. When do I get to see you again?
Ophelia: I’m headed to my grandmother’s this weekend, but what about next weekend?
Mateo: Perfect. I’m taking you out next Friday night. I’ve got a surprise ;)
On Friday afternoon, Ophelia packed up her weekend bag and drove to Oakdale for the “Passing” where she would become a—no,theTraiteur of her family.
She still didn’t have a solution for how she would treat in her own community. Where would she treat people? When would she have the time to treat between work at Healing Artists and helping at Prytania Botanica? Did she even know enough about standard healthcare? Bedside manners? Patient care? She had a bachelor’s in social work, but her knowledge was limited to that. It all seemed a bit too much if she thought about it in one sitting.
Ophelia’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. She forced three deep breaths through her lungs and reminded herself that she did not have to figure it all out now. She was doing thisbecause she wanted to carry on the family gift, and that was enough.
Turning on the oyster-paved road, she rolled down the windows of her car, taking in the pine scent, the cicadas singing, the oyster shells crackling under the car.It will all be fine,she told herself.You want this.
Ophelia recited those two lines of her favorite poem. “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.”
And with that reminder, she got out of her car, grabbed her weekend bag, and walked into the Pine House.
The followingmorning in the living room, Mawmaw went over more treating rituals and mind-clearing techniques in preparation for the Passing. Ophelia was trying desperately to clear her mind, restarting over and over again as her thoughts wandered to the Passing.
Mawmaw swatted at Ophelia’s arm. “Child,” she scolded. “What is wrong with you? Focus.”
“This isn’t easy, and you know it, so stop acting all superior,” Ophelia snipped at her grandmother and scooted down the couch out of her Mawmaw’s reach.
“It isn’t easy, I agree with you, but it shouldn’t bethishard. Have you been practicing? What is bothering you so much that it's eating at your every thought?”
How about the fact that at three p.m. this afternoon, I will experience the worst pain in the entire world for a second and then have shit-smearing, vomit-inducing aftershocks? Oh, and what about the murders? And my tiger? And the fact that magic is somehow inexplicably real?
She was spiraling in a major way. Ophelia couldn’t tell Mawmaw about all these things. Instead, Ophelia grumbled andgrowled in response. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I…I…” And then an idea clicked. “I think I need to go for a run.”
Mawmaw hummed in approval. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”
“Will you be okay on your own for an hour? Do you need the restroom or iced tea?” Ophelia asked as she situated her grandmother’s walker in front of her.
“I’ll be fine. Go now and get yourself right.”
Ophelia fussed over her grandmother a bit more, ensuring she was appropriately situated in her recliner with her iPad, TV on CNN, remote within reach, and a tall glass of iced tea. Ophelia changed into a pair of shorts and T-shirt, laced up her running shoes, and braided her long hair back. She was already so relieved at the thought of running. She felt calmer. Alive in an alert but peaceful way.
