Page 31 of Starlight Witch

My mother had turned part of my bedroom into a crafting room, though she left my bed and dresser. I had left a few scattered possessions, but they weren’t important to me. My mother hadn’t touched them, though, and they remained on the shelves where I had left them.

“If my father hid a letter in my room, it would have to have remained hidden for twenty-eight years, so it wouldn’t be in plain sight or behind furniture. I moved the furniture around several times.” I glanced around the twin-size bed that still had the cobalt comforter on it that I had bought when I was seventeen.

“Do you have any crawlspaces, like into the attic? Or a closet that might have a secret panel on the wall?” Bree asked.

I rested my hands on my hips, looking around. I had one closet in the room, a window overlooking the street, and no other entrances or exits that I knew of. “Let’s check my closet.”

As I opened the door, I expected to see an empty closet, but there were boxes in here—stacked five feet high. Each one was neatly labeled, but they were all my mother’s things. I tried to peek behind the stack, but could barely squeeze in with them. We’d have to take every box out to check the closet.

“This sucks. Where else in here could he have left the letter?” I looked around. “There aren’t any hidden panels in here, or secret hideaways.”

Bran gave me an odd look. “How do you know?”

“I was an imaginative child. I used to ransack my room, looking for portals into other worlds. I wanted nothing more than to escape.” I shrugged. “Well, let me think.” I sat on the bed and Bree sat beside me.

She looked around. “The room could be pretty, but…”

“It feels empty, right? Even though my mother took over part of it when I left home, this house feels more like a pitstop. Catharine does her best to be out when she can. I think it has too much baggage for her, but she won’t listen when I suggest she find a new place—a condo or something that requires less maintenance. She claims she couldn’t afford it, but I’m sure she can. I believe she just doesn’t want to give up the memories here, even though they make her sad.”

Taking a deep breath, I turned to Bran. “Before we move on, I need to tell you that I texted Kyle last night. I told him that I wasn’t the one who sent you over. I also told him I wouldn’t bother him, but asked him to let me know when Faron was okay. Kyle blocked me, after saying that he would accept my word that I hadn’t sent you.”

Bran studied the bedspread, holding one end in his hands. “What do you want to do?”

“What can I do? I can’t force him to talk to me. He said he’d charge me with trespassing if I showed up. So…I guess I just walk away. When Faron—if Faron—remembers, he can decide what to do at that point. I don’t want the elders of his Pack on my back.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good.” He hesitated, glancing at Bree. I knew what he wanted to ask.

“Yes, I still want to get married. We can decide on a date over the next month and start planning the wedding. I insist on Grams officiating, though. I’ve worked it out—if you like, you can move in with me. You’ll still be next to May, and yet we’ll have our own life. If you want to live with your mother, it’s all right, too. I’m pretty forgiving when it comes to things like this.”

He smiled. “Good.”

“Dude, I love you. I also like you, and we get along. Friendship and love? I’d be a fool to turn away from that. We make a good pair.”

Blushing, he said, “Well, where do we go from here?”

“Let’s go down and search the basement. I dread doing that—it’s probably a mess.” I led them through the house, into the kitchen. Fancypants had stayed with Grams and May in the living room. In the kitchen, two doors stood side by side. One led to the attic, the other to the basement. I sighed. I hated basements. I always had. They felt dangerous and I always felt like they were hiding things that might pop out and prevent me from escaping.

I opened the door and flicked on the light switch. At least the basement was finished, though that still didn’t make it pleasant. Leading the way, I slowly stepped onto the first stair. Then, step by step, holding tight to the railing, I descended into the minimalist rec room. The basement also contained the furnace room, and a two-piece powder room. Everything was painted a pale beige, as if coffee had spilt on an eggshell shirt and spread just a little at a time.

I held my breath, trying to sense if my father’s spirit was here. He had died in his office—at work, not his home office—but I wanted to know if he had somehow found his way back to the house. But I could feel nothing. Maybe I should ask Grams if she could feel anything.

The basement felt empty, almost in a scary way. There was no way anybody could get in from the outside, but I still felt vulnerable here. “There’s something down here,” I said.

“Follow your instincts,” Bran said, following me with Bree at his side.

I paused, taking a deep breath, then letting it out slowly. I closed my eyes and held out my hands. “I’m going to let the energy pull me. Bran, could you help me focus?”

He placed his hands on my waist. “Draw what you need.”

The comfortable flow of his energy began to weave itself around me, encasing me like a cocoon of vines and the power of growing things, of vines and flowers and tree roots and their energy filling me with the strength of the earth, the strength of all that sustained us.

Empowered, I focused on my hands. “Show me what I seek,” I whispered.

The magic wove itself into a cord that stretched out in front of me, like a rope levitating in midair. It was like a set of divining rods, only it took only one cord. The end turned into an arrow and began to shift back and forth, first to the right, then to the left, until it suddenly stiffened, pointing to the furnace room.

I began to walk toward the open door, reaching in to flip on the light switch. Inside, energy of the room shifted—it felt more secretive, as though it was hiding something. The sound of the furnace chugged gently in the background. But the comforting sound took on a menacing tone the longer I stood there. I closed my eyes again and the arrow pointed toward the back, beyond the furnace. I slowly approached the wall.

“There’s something there,” Bran said. “I can feel it.”

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