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It was the Taylor girl’s black Mark II rather than her brother’s flashy red Corvette. Letting the curtain fall back into place, she waited for Guy to come bursting through the door. Well fine. They would have it out tonight. She could put up with a lot, but the sight of her sweet baby sister dressed and painted up like a whore, this she would not, could not bear. Guy was too lazy. Too self-centered to come up with such a scheme. No, it had to be that Taylor boy who’d tempted Binah with music and sparkle, a weakness for which she’d inherited from their mama. Binah was a good girl. She did not belong with these dirty musicians. Dressed up like that, they wouldn’t see her as a girl. They’d see her as woman. And they’d get ideas.
Jilo stood directly before the door, her stance wide and her hands on her hips. She was surprised by a light knock on the door. Then another. She crossed to the door and cracked it open. She hadn’t thought to turn on the porch light earlier, so her visitor stood in shadows, only a thin bar of light landing on her. Ginny stood there alone. Jilo opened the door wide.
“I know what you’re thinking. I do,” Ginny said, “but I don’t plan on forcing my way in, and I’m not here to convince you you’ve overreacted.” It surprised Jilo to realize that these were her actual thoughts, though they hadn’t yet surfaced in her conscious mind. “But I’m here to do neither.” Her voice dropped. “I’ve come to warn you.”
“Warn me about what?”
Ginny lowered her eyes, looking ashamed. “About my brother, for one thing. He’s my brother, and I love him.” Her gaze rose back to meet Jilo’s. “I hope he will grow into a good man, but he isn’t quite that man yet.” She reached through the door and took Jilo’s hand. “Your sister, she’s lovely. She has a light that shines from within. She’s precious, and you need to protect her from . . .”
“From your brother,” Jilo said, and Ginny nodded.
“Edwin, he’s fascinated by her. Infatuated with her. He won’t intend to, but he will take her and destroy the light that’s in her. You can’t let him.”
Jilo grasped Ginny’s hand tighter. “Can’t you do anything to discourage him?”
Ginny shook her head. “Not my brother. Once he’s set his heart on possessing . . .” She paused. “And yes, it shames me, but that is the right word, he won’t give up. What I can do is try to find someone shinier, someone less innocent, to draw away his attention. But it’s up to you to show your sister that a man like Edwin is not the man for her. That’s not the only reason I’m here, though. Your sister, she isn’t my main concern. You are.”
Jilo shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you?” Ginny said, looking her up and down. “I felt you draw on my power.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I felt you access my magic.”
“Your magic . . . ?” Jilo said, flabbergasted. A wave of panic washed over her as a memory began to surface. The sight of Poppy, hunched over, her eyes red as hell’s most precious rubies, murderous. Jilo herself rising. Lifting off the ground. She pressed her hands to her temples, refusing to let the memory claim its rightful place in her personal history. “You’ve had too much to drink. You need to get on home now.” She moved to shut the door, but Ginny held up her hand. Visible ripples, like heat coming from hot asphalt, shimmered off it. The woman didn’t lay a finger on the door, but it felt like a strong man was pushing it open. Jilo slid back into the room as the weight of the door pressed into her.
“Stealing magic comes with a price,” Ginny said. “I don’t know how you managed it.” She stopped, seeming to search Jilo’s eyes. It was the oddest sensation she’d ever experienced, but for a moment, Jilo felt something akin to a tickle inside her mind. She shook her head, trying to put an end to the prickling. “Maybe you don’t either,” Ginny said, “but somehow you did, and it’s a dangerous game to be playing.”
“I’m not playing any games.” Jilo’s unease flared into anger.
“No, perhaps you aren’t, but we need to examine what happened tonight. If the wrong people learn of your abilities, if they learn this ‘Mother Jilo’ character you’ve created has real juice behind her, you’ll find yourself in over your head in no time.”
“I want you to leave.” Jilo put all her weight into the door, but it still wouldn’t budge.
“Of course,” Ginny said. Jilo was surprised to recognize a look of hurt in her eyes. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I’ve handled this badly. I was just so taken aback.” She lowered her hand. “I do still hope we can be friends.”
Jilo laughed. “I don’t see how that can possibly happen.” She slammed the door shut, the bang reverberating through the house. In her room, Robinson began to wail.
SEVEN
November 16, 1957
My dearest Jilo,
By the time you read this, Edwin and I will be gone. I wish I could have found the courage to speak my heart to you face-to-face, but I was afraid you’d try to stop us. I love him more than I could have ever believed possible. And he loves me, too. He swears his feelings are even stronger, but I cannot conceive how any heart could be fuller than my own.
Edwin isn’t the man you think he is. He really isn’t. He regrets how he treated Willy. And he regrets that he ever came between you and Guy even more. He hopes that without his being a distraction, Guy will get back to painting. Please tell Willy that Edwin is sorry for everything.
Edwin says that in Paris it will be possible for us to marry. To live as man and wife. That’s what he wants of me, to be his wife, and I can’t imagine living life without him.
Of course, Edwin’s parents would never approve of our marriage. He’s turning his back on them so that we can be together. I know, my sweet sister, that you, too, will not approve, at least not at first, not because you feel it is wrong for us to be together, but because you fear I might be hurt. I hope seeing how far Edwin is willing to go to make me his wife will convince you that he will never, ever hurt me. I hope that you will someday see that Edwin and I were meant to be united as husband and wife, and grant us your blessing.
I will write again, once we are settled, and let you know how to reach me, should you wish to write. I do hope you will, and that you know how much I love and will miss you.
Your sister,
Binah
