Page 40 of The Queen's Box

She set down the spoon. The dollop of mayonnaise listed to the side, and she regarded it sorrowfully.

Ruby went to Brooxie and placed her hand on Brooxie’s shoulder. “Now, Brooxie, shh.” To Willow, she said, “A soul, a memory, a creature... when it’s not allowed to blossom, it droops.”

Brooxie nodded. “Shrivels.”

“It’s the saddest of sadnesses,” Ruby said. “When something is stunted through no choice of its own.”

Cole toed the floor with his socked foot. “Right. I’m going to go shower.”

Brooxie raised her palms in a dramatic skyward sweep. “Oh, thank heavens. You stink so bad, you curdled my mayonnaise.”

“That’s mayonnaise?” Cole retorted. “Here I was thinking you’d cracked a few eggs in there and left them in the sun all day just to see what would happen.”

Brooxie threw back her head and laughed, and Cole grinned in delight.

“You’re one to talk,” Ruby scolded Brooxie. “How long has it been since you’ve had a bath—and I mean a real one—in the tub with soap and a washcloth?”

“A whore’s bath suits me fine, sister.” Brooxie threw Willow a wink. “Tits, pits, and lady bits, and I’m good to go.”

Ruby turned her attention to Cole. “As for you, I’m not sure you could crack an egg if you tried, although I suppose Brooxie and I are to blame for that. We spoil you, that’s what we do.”

Cole leaned back and spread his arms. “What can I say? It’s good to be king.”

Willow smiled along with the rest of them, but their banter made her feel lonely. How long had it been since she’d joked around like that? Been loved like that?

Once Cole had left the room, the sisters grew serious. Ruby took a seat at the table and gestured for Willow to do the same. Willow obliged, the legs of her chair scraping the floor as she sat and scooted in.

“The Queen’s Box,” Ruby said. “Are you sure you wish to find it?”

If finding the Box meant finding Serrin, then of course she was sure. “I am.”

Ruby looked at Brooxie, who nodded. She turned back to Willow, catching Willow’s gaze and holding it.

“Well, then,” she said. “Let us begin.”

Willow’s stomach fizzed.

“You have the Fade,” Brooxie pronounced.

“I do?” said Willow. “The . . . what?”

“You know what we’re talking about,” Ruby said.

“I really don’t,” Willow replied.

“In Hemridge, with Deacon Cotter and Deacon Moore,” Brooxie said. “They wanted you to go with them, but you slipped through their fingers.” She snapped. “Gone, just like that.”

Willow’s eyebrows flew sky-high. “You know about that?”

Ruby chuckled. “I would have liked to see their expressions. Bet they were mighty surprised.”

“I was, too,” Willow confessed. “I didn’tmeanto disappear, if that’s even what I did.” She glanced from Ruby to Brooxie. “Is it? Because... that’s impossible, after all.”

“But you, Willow,” Brooxie said. “You believe in impossible things, isn’t that right?”

“‘The Fade’ is what folks around here call it,” Brooxie said. “It’s a certain power passed down from generation to generation, but only in certain families.”

“Only in certain bloodlines,” Ruby said.

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