Spells for Forgetting(94)

Lily hadn’t thought to check the greenhouse.

“Hello?” she said again. Albertine couldn’t see her, but Lily could swear that her eyes focused on her face, as if some part of her did recognize Lily’s presence.

Lily set the book of spells back on the mantel, creeping backward with her heart hammering in her ears. In the next second, she was pushing through the door, onto the porch. She came down the steps, rounding the house before Albertine made it outside. And as she passed the willow at the corner, she reached up, snatching a branch from where it hung.



* * *



—

4:04 p.m.

Main Street was deserted. Lily kept to the cobblestone walk that hugged the shop doors, watching the darkened windows over her shoulder. The few businesses that were open this time of year closed up for the day. Even the pub would soon turn out its lights. The town’s residents would find their fill of ale at the orchard with the sound of music on the record player in the barn.

Lily’s reflection drifted across the painted window of her grandmother’s apothecary before she slipped inside, eyes fixed on the glass cabinet behind the counter. The crowded shelves were filled with nightshades and poisons, teeth and scales.

She crouched down, pulling on the brass handle, and the door popped open. Her gaze ran over the labels quickly until she found the one she needed: henbane. The white fragile blooms were like crinkled tissue paper, their black centers like wide, open eyes.

A rush of hot blood coursed through Lily’s veins as she picked it up, turning it over in her hands. It was followed by a trace of an involuntary smile on her lips. In her fingers, she held the key to everything she’d ever wanted. All Lily had to do was reach out and take it.



* * *



—

4:48 p.m.

Lily lifted Emery’s bedroom window carefully, watching the road over her shoulder. She only came in this way when she told her parents that she was staying the night with Emery but spent the first half of it with Dutch at the lighthouse. Those nights, she lied to Emery, too.

It had started at the beach, when the four of them spent the night drinking ciders in the dark water. After an hour or two, August and Emery left Dutch and Lily behind. They were always doing that. And when Lily couldn’t stand the idea of August’s hands on Emery any longer, she’d pulled Dutch into her, letting him feel her against him.

It had taken him a moment to kiss her, but when he did, she closed her eyes. And she wasn’t thinking about him. She was thinking about August. She was imagining that it was his hands underwater, finding their way beneath her skirt. The heat of his mouth open on her shoulder.

What she thought was one night turned into many and the longer it went on, the less Dutch wanted to keep the secret. Now, there was a soft curve to her belly. A swell to her breasts. The baby would be a problem to solve once Emery was gone. Lily would have to cross that bridge when she got there.

Beside the bed, Emery’s clothes from the graduation were in a heap where she’d stepped out of her sandals and let her dress fall to the floor. Lily climbed inside the room and made her way to the dresser against the wall.

She tried not to think about how many times Emery had been with August in that bed. How many times she’d felt him inside her. In a few hours, it wouldn’t matter.

A photo of Lily and Emery was taped to the mirror, a blurry polaroid of them on the dock. Lily lifted a finger and touched it, swallowing when pain surfaced in her throat. She loved Emery, it was true. But she was so tired of not being her.

She rooted through the jewelry box until she found it—the butterfly necklace Noah had given to Emery for her birthday. She wore it almost every day, and it was as good an anchor as any.

She dropped it into her pocket and then her eyes fell to the end of the bed, where the corner of a suitcase was sticking out from under the quilts. Lily’s vision blurred, fury simmering in her gut. Emery was just going to leave and never look back. Like Lily had never existed.

She scribbled down the note and left it on the pillow.

I’m sorry. Meet me at Halo Beach at 6 and we’ll go to the party together.



It would need to be timed perfectly. But Emery was never late.



* * *



—

5:57 p.m.

She’d chosen the spot for its circular clearing in the trees. It was a dark moon and Lily needed every bit of that power to summon the island’s magic.

She sat cross-legged on the soft earth, setting out the things she’d brought with her. The candle, the matches, the necklace, the henbane. The seaweed she’d collected at the beach and the salt. And as soon as the long hand on her watch ticked to six o’clock, she got to work.

Her hands were steady as she pressed the candle’s end into the dirt and struck the match, cupping her hand to protect its flame. When the wick was blackened at the tip, she lifted the pin, pressing it to her fingertip until the blood beaded there like a shining, crimson pearl. Once the henbane was smoking, she wrapped Emery’s necklace around her fist so tightly that it bit into her knuckles.

Her eyes lifted to the darkening sky overhead. A slow warmth rose under her skin and she brought the seaweed to her mouth and swallowed it before she pressed her finger to her tongue. The metallic taste of blood made her mouth water and when she looked up again, the clouds were turning black.