Page 41 of Minnie

“Totally,” I tell him. Especially since I don’t want Natty around to hear me scream. Which hopefully won’t happen, if Delphine manages to break the curse.

Amber leads the way upstairs, taking her time with each step. Delphine follows suit, and I bring up the rear.

I can feel Julian getting further and further away, and my feet feel heavier and heavier. Not because he’s gone too far—he’s still within a safe range—but because I’m freaking out and the waves of calm are doing nothing for me.

What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m in for a world of pain and disappointment?

I try to glance back down over my shoulder, but running isn’t in Formula M’s repertoire, so it forces me to keep moving.

When we get upstairs, Latte’s stretched out on the couch, fast asleep. Tiptoe’s curled up on top of him, snoring happily. The rainbow of jewels on his pink collar twinkle in the sunlight shining through the window.

We let them sleep and head straight for the spare room, which Amber and her guys have converted into a nursery. “It’s really coming along,” she says with a soft smile. “Wes and Chase painted the walls since you were last here, Minnie, and Julian put together the cribs.”

I take in the pale yellow walls and the amber-colored quilts on the sides of each of the cribs. “It’s so you.”

Amber beams. “I know, right?”

“When’s the baby due?” Delphine asks.

“Babies,” Amber corrects. “Triplets.”

Delphine’s eyes widen. “Oh, wow.”

“I know.” Amber rubs her belly. “They’re due on the twenty-ninth.”

“It’s a leap year,” I explain when I notice Delphine’s confused look.

Amber nods. “It only happens once every four years, so if the babies are born on their due date, they’ll only have birthdays every four years. Which means they’ll age four times slower. Isn’t that cool?”

Delphine frowns. “It doesn’t actually work that way. You’d probably just celebrate on the twenty-eighth…”

Amber bursts out laughing.

I roll my eyes. “Amber makes this joke every time someone asks when the babies are due.”

Amber nods. “Works every time. And they’ll probably be early, since they’re triplets. My doctor told me we’re probably looking at early February.”

While she and Delphine chat about the babies, I try to take a sip of my Unicorn Hot Chocolate. Formula M keeps my lips from touching the delicious-looking whipped cream, and I inhale the mouth-watering chocolaty aroma instead.

Amber clasps her hands together. “Julian’s taking the van. He’ll text me when he’s in place.”

“He’s about halfway there,” I add.

“Minnie can sense where he is,” Amber explains. “It’s part of the curse.” She crosses the room to her rocking chair, picks up the innocent-looking necklace resting on the seat, and turns to me. “Can I put this on you?”

I yawn. “Like I care.”

Except I do care. A lot. Now Delphine—a complete stranger—will get to see me without Formula M. And that isn’t the half of it.

I’ve been in this exact spot dozens of times. Mostly while it was still a dusty spare room with a twin bed and an old, empty dresser. Then, when it was an empty room, the floor scrubbed clean, and the walls painted yellow. And finally while the nursery was starting to take shape.

And all those times have ended with me on the floor, writhing in pain.

I feel a sense of peace settle over me as calming waves course through me.

We didn’t have a null witch then, I remind myself. We’d never even heard of one until now, so there’s a chance this will work. And I have to at least try.

I set my Unicorn Hot Chocolate on the dresser and gather my hair up so Amber can clip the magic dampener necklace around my neck. I’d do it myself, but Formula M apparently has some self-preservation built in and stops me if I try.