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“Madame Shante,” I say, excited to see her, but caught off guard by her sudden arrival. Her bright blue eyes stand out against umber skin, making her look more like a model than a witch. She wears a multicolored wrap on top of her head and a black dress that falls to the floor. She’s beautiful. But it’s not her looks alone that command the room. Energy circulates, causing the hair on my arms and neck to stand on end. My focus goes in and out and I could swear orbs encircle her. I shake my head, trying hard to get my eyes to focus.
She bows slightly, walking further into the room. “Let me look you over,” she says, smiling down at me. “You were in a bad way for a while. Do you remember anything?”
“Not much,” I reply.
“Hmmm,” she murmurs.
I allow her to poke and prod until she’s content with my physical state.
“Very good. You’ve healed well,” she compliments me. “Now. Why have I been summoned back here?” She directs this to Law.
“Marina has some questions for her sister Maggie.”
“And I’m to help how?” she questions.
“She’s dead,” I offer, not missing how Law winces at my response. “Can you call to her?”
She purses her lips. “She was your twin, no?”
I nod my head.
“Have you tried to call on her yourself?” Shante asks.
“I’ve had conversations with her, but she always initiates them. I haven’t been able to control when I hear her. Or see her.”
“Hmmm,” she murmurs again. “You’ve seen her?”
“Yes,” I nod. “The night of Law’s party. I followed her.”
“She was there? Interesting.”
“She spoke to me,” I say, trying desperately to recall more. “Oh... I remember, she covered my mouth.”
“You felt her touch?” Shante asks.
That’s the thing. I remember feeling... something, but there was something off about her.
“I felt something, but it wasn’t exactly solid,” I try to explain, but based on Shante’s furrowed brows, I’m not making sense.
“Come. Let’s move to the other room,” Shante suggests.
I look to Lawrence. “Am I finally able to leave this bed?”
He chuckles. “If Shante gave you the okay, who am I to disagree? I’m here to babysit.”
My lip curls before I take it a step further into immaturity by sticking my tongue out at him.
“Well then, do your job and help the girl out of bed,” Shante commands, rolling her eyes at us. “She’s sure to be weak if she hasn’t left the bed all this time.”
Law removes the covers from my legs and helps me place my legs over the side of the bed. Holding me under the elbows, he holds me steady while I stand. Once I’m on my feet and sturdy, Law lets go of my arm.
“Not yet. Help her walk,” Shante scolds Law, and I chuckle.
“Yeah, fool. Help me walk.”
This time, Law joins me in adolescent behavior by sticking his own tongue out at me. I snicker at his boyish grin. When we breach the threshold separating my room from the rest of the house, I inhale in wonder. I haven’t left the room behind me since I woke. There hasn’t been a need. Whatever magical spell Shante had placed to help me sleep—and heal—also made it so that I didn’t need to use the restroom, apparently.
Could she make that a more permanent thing?
