The Devouring Gray(35)

Harper shrugged. “Not your fault.”

“Still.” Violet paused. “I’m honored you told me all this, but why? You don’t know me.”

“The whole town knows what happened,” said Harper, thinking of the rumors she’d heard. If she wanted Violet to trust her, she needed to make sure her head wasn’t filled with lies. “I’d rather you get the story from me. And besides, our families have traditionally been close.”

Violet looked surprised to hear Harper bring it up. “So I’ve heard.”

The traditional alliances had mattered a lot less since the Saunders family had faded out and the Sullivans had left. But the bones of them were still there. Harper’s father would be happy to know that Violet thought so, too.

“If your family knew my family,” Violet continued, “maybe there’s something you can help me with. A question I don’t know how to answer.”

Harper remembered the promise her father had made her. Befriend Violet and earn a chance to take the Hawthornes down. This was it—her chance to make herself indispensable to Violet. “Go ahead. Ask me.”

But there was something guarded in Violet’s expression now. “What’s in this for you? Really?”

Harper could tell Four Paths had already left its mark on Violet, had shown her that everyone in this town had an agenda of their own. That their help came with a cost. So Harper told her the only thing she had left in her arsenal: the truth. “It is the founding families’ job to keep this town safe,” she said. “A task I failed at the moment I didn’t come out of the lake. Which means that most of the people here act as if I’m invisible.”

Violet frowned. “Being invisible in a place where an evil forest monster noticing you means an awful death doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.”

Harper bristled. Only a newcomer would sound so naive. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d lived here your whole life. Being invisible when you used to be seen…it’s like being dead, but no one mourns you. And you have to watch it.” Harper didn’t realize how close she was to crying until her voice cracked. “Helping you will force people to see me.”

Violet rested her hand on the branch between them. A thick silver bracelet shimmered on her wrist. “I understand. Well, in that case, I need to know what my ritual is. Badly. It seems like no one in my family can tell me, but I thought maybe someone in your family would know.”

Harper’s heart sank.

Most of the family rituals were open secrets. There was a reason the Carlisles had built their house on the lake bed. The Hawthornes tried to keep theirs carefully guarded, but Harper knew their ridiculous tree was somehow involved. The Sullivan ritual was shrouded in horrible rumors since Isaac’s had gone terribly wrong, driving his surviving family members out of town.

But the Saunders family had been hiding too long for even the rumors to survive.

“I don’t know what your ritual is,” Harper said. “But I’m still in. I’ll help you figure it out. There must be some record of this in our archives—or at least a clue that can help us.”

Violet’s fingers curled around the bracelet. “Thank you.” Her face hadn’t moved, but her voice was hoarse enough to tell Harper that she was holding in whatever she was feeling. “The Hawthornes have promised to help me, too. I know you’re not exactly their biggest fan, but…I was wondering if you’d be willing to work with them?”

There it was.

This had all been too good to be true.

Because if Violet trusted the Hawthornes, if she’d gone to them, if they’d offered to help her, then she was already a lost cause.

But Harper had one thing on her side that they didn’t.

“I warned you about the Hawthornes,” she said, meeting Violet’s eyes. “You can work with them if you want. But I won’t.”

Violet’s gaze was solemn. “Why? What happened?”

“Justin used to be my best friend.” Harper had never told the story out loud like this. She wasn’t sure she knew how to. “Until I failed my ritual, and then…”

Her throat was burning now. The phantom pain in her arm surged again, stronger this time, as if someone had stabbed a dagger through the palm of her left hand and twisted it.

Something had been waiting for her at the bottom of the lake. The Gray had opened for her, sucked her into its harsh, colorless embrace. Ripped her arm off below the elbow. Left her to wander among those trees for what had felt like mere minutes, but she would later learn had been days. She couldn’t remember much about the Gray itself—the few memories she did have were of the Beast’s voice hissing through her mind as she curled up on the ground and sobbed. She had no desire to reach deeper into those moments—she had gone through enough.

But Harper’s suffering didn’t end after she had returned to Four Paths, when she’d come home from the hospital. The Hawthornes had ignored her. Her family hadn’t stood up for her.

She had been left all alone.

“I proved I was weak,” Harper finished, aware as she said it that she must sound incredibly vulnerable. “So they started acting like I didn’t exist. They still do.”

Violet’s long, pale fingers were pressed against her kneecaps. When she spoke, her voice quivered. “I’m sorry to hear that.”