Bruja Born (Brooklyn Brujas #2)(85)

When each student walks across the stage, the applause is subdued, respectful. They call out my name, and I go through the motions. I shake the principal’s hand and the hands of local councilmen and women who came to pay their respects. I don’t miss Detective Hill in the audience. Even McKay and some of the THA showed up. They wave at me as I make the walk across the stage.

When I step out of school, I breathe in the midsummer air. It’s over—the casimuertos, Maks, high school. And I let myself bask in this moment of calm. A couple of friends invite me to graduation parties, but I’m not in a party mood. My family and Rishi’s family are in conversation when I find them.

When I get closer, I can see my reflection in Rishi’s sunglasses—my dark curls made unruly by the summer breeze, my red lipstick to match my dress, my scars uncovered and for everyone to see.

“You look beautiful.” She pulls me into a long embrace. While her parents are busy talking to ours, she stomps her feet and playfully slaps my arm. “I can’t believe I missed the zombie romp across town. I feel like Alex needs to take me ghost hunting for winter break.”

Alex laughs and threads her fingers through Rishi’s. “I promise, it was just a regular Tuesday night.”

“What about you, Lula?” Rishi asks, her nose ring catching the bright sunlight. “Are you okay? I know how verbose you Mortiz sisters can be with your feelings. Spare no details.”

I chuckle and look down at my shoes. Am I okay? I feel so many things. Weary. Relieved. Guilty. Free. Sometimes I feel everything all at once and sometimes I don’t feel anything at all. But my family is helping me deal with everything. I just have to ask for help.

My body, on the other hand—there are some things that science or magic can’t fix. In the evenings, when it’s cold and damp, the pain in my hips comes with a side of angry tears. Even now, I have to reach for Rose’s arm for balancing support. My body is different and strange and new to me, and I have to be kind to it. I have to learn this version of myself and love her like she deserves.

But now, I know I’m telling the truth when I say, “I’m going to be fine.”

? ? ?

Queens Village, Queens, is a strange place.

It definitely isn’t Brooklyn. Our neighbors want to talk to us, which is weird, and the house feels too new. Too freshly painted. Too straight. Too big.

The Knights of Lavant bought the house. They didn’t have any properties in Brooklyn, because Brooklyn real estate is somehow worse than Manhattan these days.

Dad didn’t want to take the house. But McKay convinced him that it was the least they could do after they burned ours down. I didn’t tell Dad it was Alex who started the fire.

Half-truths and half-lies.

That night, after graduation and the memorial and dinner, we set up our new altar in our new house. Mom ordered a new statue of La Mama from a botánica down in Florida. There’s a built-in shelf in the entrance wall where she fits perfectly. Rose and Nova are in charge of candles. Alex and I string flowers together with white thread.

“What’s Dad in charge of?” Rose asks.

“Finding a good angle for the TV,” I say.

Mom hits me on the back of my head.

“Ma,” I groan.

She strikes a match and starts lighting the sage bundles. Even new houses need to be cleansed. “Let your father be. Nova, honey, set a pot to boil.”

“Actually, Ms. Carmen, I wanted to talk to you guys about something.”

“Did you leave a red sock in the laundry again?” I ask, which garners another smack to the back of my head. Everything is almost back to normal.

We sit around the living room with Nova on the couch across from us. He’s trying to let his beard grow out, and I think he’s trying to emulate my dad. The marks on his hands are getting longer, and we try to act like we aren’t worried.

Ever since that night, I have a mark on my chest too. Just like Nova does on his heart and hands, and just like Alex does on her palms. Mine is in the shape of a star, burned right over my solar plexus, at the center of my scar.

“I was thinking about what Lady de la Muerte said,” Nova says. “About how you’ve been in a realm she can’t reach. I think that might help in getting your memories back.”

Dad sits up on the couch. He smooths his mustache down around the corners of his mouth. “What did you have in mind?”

“You’ve tried potions and cantos, and nothing works,” Nova says. “But I think we’re missing something from the realm you were in. I can find something that can help us.”

“On one condition,” Dad tells him.

“What?”

Mom and Dad sit closer to each other than they have in the last few months. Dad puts his arm around her and she sinks into him.

“We’ve talked about it,” Mom says. “We want to have a Deathday for you to stabilize your power.”

“I couldn’t,” he says, blue-green eyes glassy and I never thought I’d see the day when Nova Santiago was bashful. “That’s too much.”

“You already live here,” Rose says.

“And you’re already a pain, like a brother would be.” Alex smirks.

“What they mean,” I say, “is you did so much for me. You stayed, even though you didn’t have to.”