Page 87 of The Women of Wild Hill
“Sheshouldbe proud of me,” Lilith replied haughtily. But Sibyl could tell she’d made an impression. “You know, you’ve done that very same thing.”
“What’s that?” Sibyl asked.
“Charted your own path.”
Sibyl snorted. “Only because I didn’t know I was on one.”
“That makes it all the more impressive,” Lilith said. “I had Sadie and Ivy yammering on about how special the Duncans were from the day I was born, while you had someone who was desperate to believe you were normal.”
“I am normal,” Sibyl said.
Lilith rolled her eyes. “Normal people can’t step into their dead relatives’ lives.”
“So that’s really my gift?”
“You have access to all of our knowledge. You had a conversation with Bessie, so you can talk to ghosts, too. And the cooking seems to be opening doors. Those are very nice gifts, if you ask me.”
“I guess,” Sibyl said. “But what am I supposed to do next?”
“No idea,” Lilith said.
“Oh shit, that’s it!” A flash of inspiration had just brightened the dark corners of Sibyl’s brain. “Mom’s been trying to replicate the poison you invented. I can just go back in time and watch you make a batch!”
Sibyl’s excitement didn’t prove contagious. “Don’t bother,” Lilith said. “Unless you have access to an industrial laboratory, it’s going to be pretty hard to make enough to suit your needs.”
Sibyl felt her hopes plummet. “Then I’d better find a solution fast.”
“You just got here. What’s the rush?”
“It’s Brigid,” Sibyl told Lilith. “She’s falling in love with Liam Geddes, who should be number one on our hit list. I worry what will happen if this goes on much longer.”
That’s when the kitchen door swung open. Brigid appeared, and Lily faded.
“Who were you just talking to?” Brigid’s eyes scanned the room.
“One of the ancestors,” Sibyl admitted.
Brigid stole a canapé off Sibyl’s tray. “A cook and a kook,” she said. “You certainly fit right in. I can’t believe your mother tried to keep you away from us all these years.”
Sibyl considered telling her aunt about Lily, but something stopped her. “Water under the bridge,” she said instead. “Though I do regret that I didn’t meet you before this week.”
Brigid grinned. “Oh, but you did,” she informed her niece.
“When?” Sibyl asked, scrolling back through her memories.
“I was at your restaurant’s opening night.”
“Bullshit,” Sibyl argued. “You think I wouldn’t remember a movie star being there?”
Brigid lifted her eyebrows. “A movie star who knows every costume designer in Hollywood?”
“You’re saying you came in disguise?”
“Hell yeah, I did. For a while, I was practically a regular. I ate at the Green Lady at least once a month. Stood in line for hours sometimes. No one ever realized I was there.”
Sibyl wasn’t the kind of girl who got weepy, but she had to grab a paper towel to dab at the corners of her eyes. All this time, the family she’d never met had been watching over her. “I wish that I’d known.”
“It’s okay,” Brigid told her. “You do now.”
