Page 53 of A Witch's Guide to Surviving Halloween
I glance over my shoulder at Lucy. With her hand pressed to her mouth and the other crossed over her middle, she looks as though she’s about to be sick. I want to run to her, to hold her and apologize, to promise I’ll stay by her side until we figure out whatever the consequence will be for her sacrifice, but as soon as I leave the circle, Grandma will be gone and we won’t have our answer. If I have any chance of helping my best friend, I need to learn how to break my own curse first.
When I turn back to Grandma, she’s even more see-through than she had been before; she’s already fading away, and I’m running out of time.
“What was the lie, Grandma? I need to know.”
“‘’Til truths unfold, and masks descend,’” she quotes. “The lie was the mask. It was this facade I forced on myself. I thought I had to pretend to gain respect. That I had to be this strong, independent woman who needed no one and nothing for people to take me seriously. I let my pride get in the way of getting everything I wanted, simply because I thought other people’s expectations of me were more important than what I trulywanted and who I truly was. I could have had Moonlit Pages, love, community, respect, and everything else. Instead, I was too narrow-sighted to let myself have it. But as you probably know, bug, I never let that mask go. Once I wore it, I never figured out how to take it off. I wore it until the day I died.”
“I’m so sorry,” I choke out, unsure what else to say. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for her. To spend her entire life pretending to be someone she wasn’t, all for the sake of an image. All for the sake of the rest of the town and Moonlit Pages.
“Tell me,” she says, leaning in and studying my face. “Why does it look like you haven’t slept in a week?”
I sigh, rubbing my hands across my eyes as if the dark circles that have recently appeared can be wiped away. “This curse has been exhausting. It started out small, but every day, it gets worse and Stacy is freaking out, because she thinks I’m a bad host and?—”
“Bug, you’re hosting the Halloween festival?” Grandma’s eyes are wide with horror.
“Of course,” I tell her, unsure why that’s the part she cares about. What about the people who have been hurt? The money lost? There are so many more important things to focus on. “It’s Moonlit Pages’s year to sponsor, and you aren’t here to host, so I just . . .”
I just put on a mask and forced myself to step up so that I could be someone the town respected. I wanted to appear as though I could handle life without you and be the business owner the town expects.
Grandma shakes her head, her horror fading to a look of sympathy. “So you did exactly what I would have done.”
In more ways than one, I think to myself, my thoughts reflected in her nearly invisible eyes.
“I never meant for you to follow in my footsteps. Not like this. From here on out, I want you to remember one last thing: Never live your life according to someone else’s expectations, not even mine. You know what you need to do.” Grandma presses phantom lips to my forehead. The ghost of love washes through me, and once again, I have to stop myself from throwing myself into her arms. “I love you, my little bug.”
“I love you, too.” The words are a barely audible whisper as she fades from view. A cold wind blows through the circle, taking the flames of the candles and Grandma with it, leaving Lucy and me alone once again. The breeze picks up the leftover ashes in the burn bowl and they flutter across the floor like sad confetti.
It takes a moment for me to gather myself, but when I do, the first thing I do is rush to Lucy. She’s upright again, black liner streaking her cheeks where dried tears have fallen.
“I’m so sorry,” I start, but she shakes her head.
“Don’t,” she chokes. “Don’t even start. I can’t . . . not right now. It was my choice, okay? It’s not your fault.”
I want to argue with her, but there’s nothing I can say to change it now.
“Just go, okay?” When I don’t leave, she gives me a small, sad smile that’s entirely humorless. “We’ll figure it out later—together—but the curse needs to be broken tonight.”
Again, I open my mouth to argue, to tell her I’m not leaving her side, when my phone goes off again.
Bzzz bzzz.
Bzzz bzzz.
Pause.
Bzzz bzzz.
Bzzz bzzz.
I push a frustrated breath through my nose, torn between my need to stay with my best friend, who has possibly forsaken herfuture on my behalf, and my desire to break this curse once and for all.
“If you don’t go now, I would have done this for nothing,” she whispers, and that’s what decides it for me.
“Fine”—I grab my phone and back away from her—“but we’re going to figure this out, okay? I promise.”
Lucy nods, but there’s no glimmer of hope in her green eyes as she gazes at the burn bowl in the center of the floor. My feet almost stop, but she’s right. If I don’t break the curse, her sacrifice would be in vain. Grandma’s curse wasn’t an immediate thing; it took time to dig its claws into her life and tear it to shreds. We have time to solve Lucy’s before it gets out of control.
So, against my better judgment, I turn and bolt through the sales floor and out the front door of Moonlit Pages. Weaving through the crowds of people, I duck and bob around children in costumes and parents bundled in warm coats as we all head toward Main Square.
