Page 35 of Bearly Believable Romance

Tabitha took a sip of coffee, the bitter liquid grounding her. “In the vision, I radiated light, a pure, gentle aura. But my sister...” She swallowed, her brow furrowing. “She was shrouded in darkness, a pulsing, angry energy. I could feel the conflict, the tension.”

She looked up, meeting Bram’s gaze. “Our parents were arguing with my grandmother, debating what to do. They feared my sister’s power, the chaos she could bring. My grandmother kept telling them that she could be brought into the light. The chalice,” she gave a knowing look to Bram that said it was the same chalice they’d found in the altar, “if done correctly, its magic could do it. But they didn’t want to listen. In the end, they decided to separate us. I stayed with them while she was sent away. I saw my grandmother arguing, crying, begging. They left Whispering Pines and never returned. They never saw my grandmother again and I didn’t either.”

Bram reached across the table, his hand finding hers. He gave a gentle squeeze, a silent reminder that he was there supporting her.

Tabitha squeezed back, drawing strength from his touch. “I have to find her, Bram. I have to understand why we were torn apart if what my grandmother said was true. If there was another way, why was she sent away? And I need to know why my parents never told me about her.”

Bram brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “We’ll get those answers for you, love,” he promised, his voice fierce with conviction. “Your family’s past doesn’t define you, but it’s a part of who you are. I know you need resolution and if your sister’s out there needing to be brought into the light, I will help you find her.”

Tabitha smiled softly, her fingers intertwining with his. “Thank you, Bram. I knew I could count on you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping their coffee and letting the revelations settle. The cafe buzzed around them, a soothing hum of conversation and clinking dishes.

“So, what’s our next move?” Bram asked, his mind already whirring with possibilities.

Tabitha set down her mug, a glint of determination in her eye. “We start with my parents. I need to confront them, to hear the truth from their own lips. And then...” She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “Then we find my sister. It’s time to bring her home.”

EIGHTEEN

The shrill ring of her cell phone shattered the tranquil morning, jolting Tabitha from her cozy reverie on the sofa. She glanced at the screen, her heart stuttering as she registered the caller ID. Mom and Dad. Her finger hovered over the accept button, a sense of foreboding prickling along her spine. Steeling herself, she swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

“Tabitha.” Her mother’s voice was as crisp and cold as the first frost of autumn. “Your father and I have decided to visit. We’ll be arriving in Whispering Pines this afternoon.”

Tabitha’s stomach plummeted, her grip tightening on the phone. “What? Today? But I thought?—”

“Plans change,” her father cut in, his tone brooking no argument. “We’ll be there by 1:00 p.m. Please ensure the house is presentable.”

“But—”

The click of silence was like a door slamming in her face. Tabitha stared at the phone, a mixture of anxiety and resentment churning in her gut.

She took a deep breath, looking around her grandmother’s house—her house now. The eclectic decor and cozy charm were a far cry from the sterile modernity of her parents’ mansion. Antique books jostled for space with crystals and herbs and colorful quilts draped invitingly over plush armchairs. It was a place that invited you to kick off your shoes, curl up with a mug of tea, and lose yourself in a good story. So different from the echoing halls and harsh angles she’d grown up in where every surface gleamed and every cushion stood at attention, stiff and uninviting.

Sighing, Tabitha pushed herself off the sofa, her bare feet sinking into the plush rug. She padded into the guest room, her motions stiff and mechanical as she prepared for her parents’ arrival. Hospital corners on the bedspread, plump pillows arranged just so, not a speck of dust on the antique dresser. The muscle memory of a childhood spent striving for perfection.

As she worked, memories played out in her mind like a film reel from a horror movie. Her mother’s lips, perpetually pursed in disapproval, painted a severe crimson. Her cutting remarks delivered in a honeyed voice.

“Tabitha, darling, are you sure you want to wear that when the highest magic council in the states will be there? It does nothing for your figure.”

“Your magic needs…work, don’t you think? Best to not engage a council member in conversation with you still being so wet behind the ears.”

And her father, always distant. The rare times he did look at her, it was with a critical gaze as if assessing a particularly disappointing investment.

“Your spellbinding needs much work, Tabitha. I expect better from a Greer.”

“Daydreaming again? Focus, girl. How will you be the best witch if you can’t stay out of your head? “

Tabitha smoothed a hand over the duvet, her fingers trembling slightly. She blinked back the hot prick of tears, swallowing past the lump in her throat. So many years spent wondering what she’d done wrong and why she could never quite measure up to their impossible standards.

She’d often felt more like a prop than a daughter, a box to tick on their life plan. The perfect family, the ideal daughter. Never mind that their perfection was only skin deep, a flimsy veneer hiding a rot of apathy and disdain.

Finishing up the room, Tabitha caught her reflection in the antique mirror above the dresser. She hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. Her blue eyes sparkled with a newfound confidence, her shoulders squared not with tension, but with strength. The months spent in Whispering Pines surrounded by acceptance and love had nurtured a part of her she’d thought long withered.

She wasn’t that scared little girl anymore, so desperate for scraps of affection. She was a witch, a friend, a woman coming into her own power. And she would not cower before her parents’ coldness. Not anymore.

The crunch of tires on gravel heralded their arrival. Tabitha took a deep breath, centering herself. She could do this.

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