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When Wendy called for me, begging to see me one last time, I didn’t dare.

That same urge to run now still exists, but I push through it.

The first snowfall of the year lands on my head as I march up to the cottage and knock on the front door. But Aurora isn’t the one who answers.

Leo lets out a slow huff. “About fucking time you showed up.”

I recoil. “I beg your pardon? Is it Aurora? Is she all right?”

“She’s fine, but the cottage tried to kill my brother.”

“The cottage did what?”

This is a lot to process. Wendy’s spirit is imperfect, a shell of who she was when she was living, but I can’t imagine her trying to kill someone. Mrs. Seren appears behind her son, fixing him with a withering stare.

“It was a mild burn,” she says. “Luke is fine. Are you here for Aurora?”

I nod slowly. “Is she… in her room?”

“She is.” She cocks her head. “And I think she needs to see you, though she’s been a bit… antisocial.”

That confirms Farrah’s hypothesis. Aurora has been avoiding me, and maybe I should let her. It’s only then that I realize how tired her mother looks: dark circles under her eyes, her hair unstyled and limp.

My magic may be affecting everyone in the family, but I need to suck it up this time. I’ll be here for Aurora, the way I couldn’t be before. Farrah is right. I’m not a child anymore.

I’ll be better.

“I’ll let you up,” Mrs. Seren says, “but you need to prepare. Aurora has been going through a… transformation.”

Chapter 44

Aurora

I look like my mother.

From a young age, I felt more like my father. I acted like him and held his magic. But over the last few days, my hair has turned entirely white, and I’m her. All of my dark strands are gone. She’s the one who looks back at me in the mirror.

Or maybe it’s me. A new me. New magic.

Summoning Wendy’s spirit changed me.

In a bad way.

As the days pass, that becomes increasingly true.

My appetite disappears. I’m sleeping too much. And it doesn’t feel like depression. I’ve been depressed before—runs in the family, after all—but this is different. Even though the cottage is peaceful after our conversation, I’m not.

The dreams.

They’re not hers anymore.

They’re someone else’s.

They’re mine.

I’m lost.

For now, I’d like to stay lost. My bed is tempting me again. The world passes me by so strangely. I’m not sure what time it is when someone knocks at my bedroom door—probably my mom or Luke.