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Didn’t see that coming. She hoped I’d find out she was a witch and call her about it? Why?
I played coy. “Yeah, but why don’t you spell it out for me?”
She huffed in frustration. “It’s too early in the morning to be dealing with your mind games. You know I’m a witch, and you’ve found out about your own witch blood and want help.”
I was silent for a beat.
What. The. Fuck?
Clawdia was watching me as she ate her cereal. She mouthed “Everything okay?” and I gave her a wide-eyed funny look she couldn’t interpret.
Lydia sounded in my ear again. “Charlie?”
“How … how did you know?” I recovered poorly, my mind reeling.
Is she being serious?
She breathed a relieved laugh. “Oh, thank God. For a moment there, I thought I’d let the cat out of the bag.”
I mimicked her laugh robotically. “No, no, I’ve known for a little while now. And, um, I wanted to know, how come you didn’t say anything about it to me?”
She sighed. “It wasn’t easy for me, Charlie, believe me. I wanted to tell you, but I wasn’t sure at the beginning, and by the time I’d tested you and was sure you’d come from a witch line, you’d broken up with me.”
“So, you kept it from me as punishment?” I blinked as anger started boiling inside me.
Clawdia audibly gasped and mouthed “A baby?” I shook my head and turned away from her so I could focus on the problem at hand.
I’m a witch?
“No, I just—” she stumbled and started again. “I know you liked your life the way it was. I didn’t think you needed to know that.”
I scoffed, and bitterness tinged my words. “You knew I was a foster child and didn’t know who my parents were, and you didn’t think I’d want information about where I came from?”
“I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” She sounded genuinely apologetic, but I was still too angry to accept that.
Forgetting the reason I called, I continued my interrogation. “How did you test me?”
“What?”
“How did you test me for being a witch?” I said slowly, trying to calm myself.
Clawdia touched my elbow, and I turned to look at her. "A witch?” she mouthed. I closed my eyes and nodded once. She hugged me and stayed close as Lydia continued. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to comfort me or just listen in on the conversation.
“I just took a strand of your hair and asked for it to search for likeness in hairs of other UK witch lines. It went to the Bradbury line. One or both of your parents came from there. It’s a powerful line. You have a lot of their physical and magical features.”
“Explain that. How did you know I had magical features? What are they?”
“A magical feature is like a personality trait in witch lines. Some are better at foresight, others at seeking, brewing, spellcasting, et cetera. You always know exactly how to find things, Charlie. You did it so often and so unassumingly that I knew it had to be magical, but you didn’t recognize that because to you, it was normal.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d always leave something somewhere in your house, and without even looking for it, you’d know where it was.”
“That’s not magical. That’s organized.”
“No, you have a gift. You find things. If something is missing, you find it. Haven’t you always felt it was too easy?”
I knew she was right. I called it my superpower, but I didn’t actually believe it was a superpower.
