Peony squeezed her hand. “It’s hard for me, too, all of us growing up. I know it feels like Rosie and I are leaving you, but we’ll always be here for you. Truth is, you’re the one more likely to leave us.”
“Me?” Marigold shook her head.
“You won’t be at Three Flowers forever. I know it. You’ve got a beautiful journey ahead. I just hope, wherever it takes you, in the end you always come back.”
Marigold would never forget how radiant Peony looked at that moment. She glowed, a strawberry flush dusting her cheeks, and Marigold thought maybe there was some magic to being in love.
It made her curious. But not curious enough to try it herself.
San Francisco
1959
Chapter Forty
Helen
“Wake up.” I shook Philip. “Something’s wrong with Marigold.”
I was sitting on the bed holding our second daughter in my arms. Throughout the night, a hoarse barking sound had grated out of her lungs. Her lips were blue like a bruise, and whenever she coughed, her stomach turned stone hard. I wrapped her in quilts. Still she shivered. Her pulse galloped.
Philip stroked my cheek. “If she’s not better in the morning, we’ll take her to the doctor.”
He didn’t know the girls like I did. Rosie would stub her toe then wail for hours, Peony sobbed in my arms whenever she scraped her knees, whereas Marigold—a bee had stung her on the knuckle once and she didn’t tell me until a week later. Even at four years old, she held in her pain. She was like me in that way.
While Philip slept, I was trying hard not to cry. Since having my three daughters, I hadn’t turned invisible once. I had sworn not to. My curse had quieted, the demon inside me gone dormant. I’d dared hope that meant my family and I were safe.
What a fool I was.
As I held Marigold, patting a wet compress over her forehead, tiny stabs of cold knifed up my bare skin.No, no, no.Once I saw the outline of my arms flickering, I dropped Marigold onto the bed.
It had been years since I last disappeared, yet I remembered my curse’s every cue. My daughter stirred, looking for me in her sleep. I didn’t go to her. If I picked her up, she might fall through my arms—or worse yet, go into the darkness with me. I backed away, shivering, and desperately reached into my closet for a coat, a sweater, anything to get warm—but my fingers sifted straight through the garments, unable to grasp them. How was this happening? I hadn’t held my breath.... Why was I starting to disappear?
I breathed in deeply, then out. No use. Under the moonlight, my skin had gone diaphanous, like rice paper in water.
“Mama?” Marigold whimpered. She crawled off the bed and reached out in the dark. “W-Where are you?”
Stay where you are,I wanted to say.It wants me, not you.
I kept still so as not to frighten her, but my daughter swayed deliriously, somehow finding my hand, her moist little fingers wrapping around my thumb. “Mama. Come back.”
Three words, armed with the feverish heat of her touch, and the cold slipped away like a broken spell. My body shuddered whole, and I scooped my daughter into my arms and under the blankets, trembling with her.
Marigold gave my hand a weak squeeze. “I dreamt... I dreamt that you left.”
“I’m here,” I whispered, still shaking.I’m not going anywhere,I wanted to add, but I feared that would be a lie.
Tonight my demon had returned, marking the end of my curse’s remission. What it wanted was yet to be seen, but of this I was sure: It was stronger than before—and hungrier.
On the wall, I saw my daughter’s shadow, stark against the empty place where mine should have been. I gathered her to my chest, singing to calm us both.
There are two hwamei in the tree,
Singing their sweetest song
For at last, the rain is lifting,
Chattering into the sea.
