Page 50 of A Lullaby for Witches

“No,” she said sharply, taking her hands back from him.

“Okay,” he said, not in the least bit perturbed. “Sorry, I had to ask. It’s just that...well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be right back.”

Augusta watched him leave. She couldn’t help but be a little insulted that he thought she would lie, though if she were on some kind of drug that would at least be an explanation. They worked in silence for the rest of the day, only occasionally exchanging the barest of words when work necessitated it.

That evening, as Augusta was curled up on the couch watching game show reruns with her mother, she got a text from Leo.Hey, I hope you’re feeling better and that I didn’t cross a line with my question earlier today. Are we still on for Friday? Totally understand if you want to cancel, but I hope you’ll still want to go.

She texted back that they were still on and she was looking forward to it. But that night, when she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, it was of an intense young man, tall, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, of whom she dreamed.

28

Augusta

The days leading up to her date with Leo—was it a date? Or were they just hanging out as friends?—were long and exhausting. Work was a minefield; every time Augusta so much as blinked, she was afraid that she would slip into another waking dream. Yet whenever it did not happen, an unaccountable sadness welled in her chest, that feeling of homesickness, of loss. Nights were likewise unrestful, full of dreams that were not quite hers.

But as soon as Leo pulled up in front of her house, she pushed aside all the unpleasantness and decided that she would enjoy tonight. God knew she needed a night out, and she still couldn’t quite believe that she got to spend it with Leo. Sliding into the passenger seat beside him was like coming home.

“So where are we going?” she asked when they’d pulled away from the house, both pretending like they couldn’t see her mother peeking out through the blinds at them.

“There’s this outdoor food festival going on tonight... I thought we could grab a bite to eat and walk, if that sounds good?”

They pulled up to a park filled with food trucks, lights strung all through the autumn trees. Families strolled around the lit-up green, and a folk band was playing on a small stage in the middle. It was perfect. She could get whatever she wanted to eat and not have to worry about being self-conscious while they meandered the illuminated paths.

Leo got something from a Mexican stand, and Augusta got a mango lassi and a savory pastry. There was an outdoor art exhibit, and they wandered the park, hunting for all the sculptures that had been tucked into the winding paths.

“Hey, so I feel like I should explain myself,” Leo said suddenly.

“About what?”

“The other day, when I asked if you were on something—”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. I understand, it’s hard to believe. I probably wouldn’t believe me either.”

“No, it wasn’t fine. I believe you, and anyway, it’s not any of my business.” They’d gradually slowed until they were standing in front of a sculpture of birds taking flight, a small pond their backdrop. In the twilight, their black silhouettes looked so real, like they had simply been frozen in time on their ascent. “I think I mentioned that my ex-girlfriend died. I can’t remember if I told you any more than that.”

He was looking past her, at the glassy surface of the pond, but he seemed to sense the shake of her head. “Well, she died shortly after we broke up. It was an overdose, though it was never clear if it was accidental or not. She would threaten to hurt herself a lot, and after a while I stopped taking her seriously.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he kicked at a rock, sending it splashing into the water. “I thought she was trying to guilt me into coming back, but she was serious.”

The full implication of this and what it must have felt like for him pierced her right through the heart. In the aftermath of their breakup, Chris had made veiled references to hurting himself and Augusta had been worried, scared. How terrible it must have been for Leo to be saddled with such a sense of guilt. “Oh, Leo. I’m so sorry,” she said, wanting to reach out and take his hand, but stopping herself.

“That’s why I don’t drink, in part,” he said. “I never want to be in a situation where I’m not in control of myself. Not just because of accidentally taking it too far, but also in case I have to drive someone to the hospital or do CPR.”

She’d never put it together that Leo didn’t drink. He rarely joined her and the others for after-work drinks, but if he did, he usually had a club soda or something. She hadn’t thought anything of it.

“Anyway, when I saw you...” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as he quickly looked away. “Well, I’m just glad that you’re all right.”

It didn’t seem quite appropriate that she was flattered he was so concerned for her—after all, it was born out of a terrible experience for him—but she couldn’t help but feel glad that he’d shared. “I get it,” she said. “No harm done in asking.”

They continued walking, leaving the birds in flight behind until they found a bench. There was plenty of room, but Leo sat near her, and she could feel his warmth even in the cool evening air. Leo, visibly brightening, asked, “So, where are we in our Margaret search?”

“I guess that depends,” Augusta said cautiously. “I haven’t had much time to do research, but I feel like I know so much more about her now since...since my last episode.”

“Like what?”

Augusta gazed out at the modern scene before her, feeling a million years out of place. Two children with balloon animals ran ahead of their parents, who were pushing a stroller. The light strain of folk music drifted from an outdoor speaker on the main green. It all seemed so impossibly far away from Margaret’s life. “I think she got into some kind of trouble with her lover. She was pregnant, and the man she wanted to marry turned out to have betrayed her. He was already engaged.” She remembered the bone-deep sense of betrayal, could feel Margaret’s hurt. “Her brother—or rather, cousin—the youngest one, Henry, he had worked against her in the hopes of...well, I’m not sure of what. I have the impression he might have had some kind of feelings toward her. Like, romantic feelings.”

Leo raised his brows. “Oh, wow, that’s fucked up.”

“No kidding.” She shuddered, remembering the way her skin had crawled when Henry had turned his gaze on her. “That’s not all. Remember when you found those family names and Montrose was one of them?” He nodded. “Well, I think Margaret was adopted.”

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