Jilo (Witching Savannah #4)(86)

“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




January 8, 1958

My sweet Binah,

I received your letter from Paris this morning. I have read your words now several times over, and have done my best to understand what you have done.

Know that I, too, love you. I hate that you’re so far away, that I can no longer see your beautiful, shining face each morning. It pains me deeply that you felt you had no choice but to leave home without saying good-bye. I would have so dearly loved to hold you once more, to wish you well. But maybe you were right after all. If you had given me that chance, I might never have let you go.

Edwin is not the man I would have chosen for you, but then again, we both know I’m not that skilled when it comes to picking men. We Wills girls always listen to our hearts. I hope yours has served you better than mine appears to have done me. Still, we have made the choices we needed to make, and with those choices we must live.

If Edwin brings you happiness, if he watches over you and cherishes you the way you deserve to be cherished, then I give my blessing and my love to both of you.

Just imagine, my baby sister in Paris! Yes, my Binah is in Paris, but you’ll always be in my heart. Please write often, and share your life there with me.

With all my love,

Your Jilo





EIGHT


April 1958



Jilo had hoped she could help Guy get back on an even keel, once he was out from under Edwin’s influence, but the opposite had proven true. Edwin’s departure had signaled Guy’s collapse. Guy took to bed for days after Edwin and Binah ran off together, just lying there as still as the dead, refusing to speak, facing the wall, like he’d lost his life, a limb, or a love. It was a relief when he rose and returned to drinking. At least for a few days, it was.