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“Hungry?” my mother asks from the stove.
I nod as my stomach rumbles again. I don’t even remember the last time I ate. These last few days have turned me upside down.
I plop into the kitchen chair, my fingers going to an emerald crystal on the table. It warms in my palm, the energy healthy as it seeps into me. I breathe through it, knowing I needed it badly.
“I can feel the negativity from across the room. You going to tell us what’s been going on?” my grandma asks.
“Mother, stop it. She’s clearly stressed out, if you can’t tell.” My mother turns toward me. “Have you found anything out about the school, or what’s been going on?”
My elbows plop onto the table, and I sink my forehead into my hands, pressing the heels into my eyebrows. “Have you guys ever been to the old part of Castle Pointe?”
The clatter of a fork hitting the floor reaches my ears. I turn to my mother, and she looks a little pale as she watches me. “Please don’t tell me you went over there.”
“Of course she did. I can smell it on her.” Oh, my grandmother. So wise, and so fucking snappy sometimes. I can’t tell if it’s lucky or not that she moved in with us three years ago. She’s getting older, and my mom thought it’d be good to have her close.
Close, like down the hall.
Too close, sometimes. Mostly because she’s so earthly and empathic she knows everything about you before you even know it about yourself.
“I did,” I sigh into my hands.
My grandmother tsks from across the room. Then the couch creaks as she adjusts, and I can imagine her turning toward me, ready to give me a lecture.
I lift my head, giving her a long glance.
“I’ve been over there with my friends back when I was young. You couldn’t pay me all the money in the world to go back to old Castle Pointe.”
I narrow my eyes. “It’s pretty dark over there, isn’t it?”
My grandmother gives me a small smirk. “It is dark, but that is why we are the light. They used to call it hell back in the day, you know. Hell on earth. Why do you think we blocked the road to make it hidden? Why do you think people don’t speak about it? Because it shouldn’t exist. You say the portal was the school? We say Satan ruled the old land.”
“I don’t want you going over there, Hazel. It’s too dangerous,” my mother says sternly.
I tamper down a shiver. “I have no intentions of going back there again.”
My eyes bounce between the both of them. “Did you know there were witch trials there back in the day?”
My mother says nothing, and I turn my gaze to her. She avoids it. I glance over at my grandma, and she keeps knitting, though her eyes stay on mine. “Did you?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she answers simply. “Not much to tell, Hazel. No sense in letting the vile history of Castle Pointe slip past your tongue. It’ll do nothing but bring you darkness.”
I slouch into my seat, wishing they would give me more than that, though I know to them, this conversation is over.
A warm plate of steaming sunny side up eggs, bacon, and fresh cinnamon rolls sits down in front of me. “Eat up, Hazel. You look pale and thin, like you haven’t eaten in days.”
Because I haven’t.
I dig into my food, closing my eyes at the deliciousness. I eat in silence, keeping my eyes on my plate, though I can feel my grandma and my mom watching me. They have so many questions, but I honestly think they’d rather not know about what’s happened over these last couple of days.
Something has been on my mind, and I know this is something I have to bring up to them.
“Do you guys think I should get back into magic?” I mumble around a bite of food.
Silence.
“Is that something you want to do, Hazel? I thought you wanted to step away from your magic,” my mom says softly.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I think with everything that’s going on, it might help.”
