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“Okay,” Tanya says, sounding unconvinced. “Well, umm ... Will sent another flower arrangement. Purple hyacinths, I think.”
“You can toss them.”
“It’s none of my business, but—he meant well, Hope. Anyone can see that.”
Anyone can. But I expected better from him.
Maybe because I’d gotten my hopes up too high believing he expected more from me.
“It’s complicated,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“I know. Just ... think about it, okay?” She sets something heavy by the door. “We’re going to go. Text me if you need anything.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Thewecrashes through me, a storm cloud cracked open. “Have fun.”
The shadow of Tanya’s feet beneath my door remains still. “There’s one more thing. Annette got the town council to say Maeve’s cottage is condemned. They’re going to make her leave.”
“That’s ridiculous—”
“Totally,” Tanya says quickly, confirming she’s solidly in the I-haven’t-given-in-to-hysteria camp. “I just thought you should know.”
Tanya’s feet disappear. A moment later, murmuring filters in and then the sound of the front door opening and closing.
In the silence, Maeve’s cottage locks into my thoughts. Maeve, who wasn’t afraid when Rory confronted her, but cannot stand up against an entire town. She needs help. I reach for my phone to call Will and drop it.
Will cannot be my first call. He cannot be my first anything anymore.
The loss is like a hollowing, and I try not to think about how familiar it feels as I throw on clothes and stuff my feet into sneakers.
Maeve is seated on the porch swing drinking a cup of tea when I arrive. Gummy bears are scattered across the table, and she’s plucking colors at random. Today she’s wearing cutoff jeans and hot-pink Reeboks that somehow survived the eighties. Her gray-white hair is pulled through the back of a baseball cap. She looks young and ... normal.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit still,” I say as I climb the steps and try to keep any assumption from my voice. Maeve has always been a whirl of energy when I’ve arrived—pruning flowers or blending herbs. To see her sit is ... startling. Worrying.
“I’m just taking in the view. It really is beautiful here.” She slides over to make room for me.
“It is.” I sit beside her. The swing creaks with my extra weight. “You’re drinking tea?”
“Jasmine, rose, and a touch of chamomile to help me find and give grace.” She breathes a laugh. “Although I suppose I should have added something stronger.”
“You heard about that committee, I guess?”
She nods. “I should be flattered that so many people believe I have so much power.”
“I’m sorry. It’s—I hate them for what they’re doing. I wish there was a way to stop them.”
A cloud drifts across the sun. A shadow falls across the woods, the trail leading away from the cottage.
“We talked once about how sometimes I find myself needing to move on from places. I thought Kingsette would be different, but—I smell the smoke in the air, and I don’t ignore the warnings anymore. Besides, I’m not sure I’m helping anyone anymore,” Maeve says, her tone indecipherable.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been by ...”
“I understand,” Maeve says. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I wouldn’t be surprised if you questioned me after all of this—after hearing Will’s accusations, after Brandon didn’t come.”
“No, that’s not—”
Maeve flashes me a knowing look, and I relent. “Fine, I did question you for a bit, but then I thought about how people here overreacted to rumors about you, and how easily one side of a story becomes fact. I thought about you and everything you taught me and everything I’ve seen you do, and I know the truth. I know you aren’t a scam artist ora fraud or any of the awful things they’re saying about you. You have something they don’t, a power they can’t understand. I hate that they are being so awful to you. I’m sorry.”
Maeve waves away the apology. “I’m not the only one with a power. You have a gift of your own, Hope. There’s a reason you turned to nursing, healing, and a reason the universe brought you and me together.”
