Page 68 of Persephone's Curse
“She wants to go back,” Clara said. “She’s going to insist on going back for him.”
“Well, obviously we can’t let that happen,” Bernie said.
“Maybe we should all go?” Clara proposed. “You know, just to check it out.”
“No,” Bernadette and I said at the same time (again).
“Aubergine skies,” Clara mumbled.
“We have to figure out how to get Henry backhere,” I said. “If Henry comes back here, Evelyn has no reason to leave again.”
“No reason to leaveeveragain,” Bernadette said. “We’d be right back where we started. She would never leave this house again.”
“I don’t think we can worry about that right now,” I said. “I think all we can worry about is making sure she doesn’t go back to the Underworld and get trapped there again.”
“Great, I’ll go to the library tomorrow and check out all the books I can on how to resurrect a ghost and we’ll wrap this up by the weekend,” Bernadette said with an eye roll, lying back on the bed with a huff.
“I know someone I could ask,” I said, and my sisters both shot me a look like,Who??“Just someone I know. She works in a store. It’s fine.”
“This is allveryweird,” Clara said.
“Yes,” Bernadette said. “And I can’t even talk about it in therapy. Who would believe me?”
We did go to school on Tuesday. Mom and Dad hadn’t made it back yet; they’d hit traffic halfway to the city and sent us many apology texts for being absent parents. Bernadette had the day off but got up early and made everyone chocolate-chip pancakes, something she hadn’t done in years. They were Evelyn’s favorite, and she ate them ravenously, going back for seconds.
“Do they not have chocolate-chip pancakes in the Underworld?” Clara asked, her wide-eyed innocence successfully removing any trace of snark from her words.
“No,” Evelyn said. “But there are a lot of pomegranates.”
Evelyn and I walked across the park.
We had walked across the park together only a few days before, but it felt like a lifetime ago. She did not ask to veer toward the reservoir. We took the most direct route available to us. She was quiet. She stood up very straight. Shoulders back. Chin up. Steps light. Face smooth and impassive. Distant. If I spoke to her, it took a moment for my words to register. We hadn’t been alone together since she had come back, and I hadn’t expected the silence between us to feel so awkward. But maybe Ishouldhave. There were, as it stood, about a million things I didn’t want to talk about with her, starting with what I had said to Henry, how I had sent him away, how I had lied to her, how all of this was my fault, etc., etc.
“Do you believe me?” she asked suddenly, startling me. “I can’t decide if you all believe me or you think I’m lying or making it up or crazy or…”
“We grew up with a ghost in our attic, Evelyn,” I said. “We believe you.”
“He forgives you,” she said. “He wanted me to tell you that.”
“Forgives me for what?” I said too quickly. “I didn’t do anything. Did he tell you I did something?”
“And I knowwhyyou did it,” she continued. “And it upsets me, but I love you, and I know you were just doing what you thought was right, and I forgive you. You’re my sister. I’ll love you forever.”
I scratched the insides of my wrists. I didn’t know how to respond to any of that, so I just mumbled that I loved her, too, and then I said, feeling like I had to saysomethingor else lapse back into uncomfortable silence, “So the Underworld, is it, like…” I pointed down, toward the earth.
“No,” Evelyn said. “Not really. It’s more like…”
She moved her hands in a wide circle, indicating everything all around us. Then she smiled and took my hands, holding them in her hands, which seemed just a little colder than I remembered.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking so deeply into my eyes that I felt penetrated, violated, itchy all over. “I’m sorry for leaving and not telling you where I was going. I’m sorry for not trying to understand why you did what you did. I’m sorry for pretending that I was completely blameless in this. I’m sorry for falling in love with a ghost. I’m sorry that I have to go back and find him. Even if that means… Even if that means never coming backhere. I’m sorry.”
I wasn’t going to cry, Iwasn’t,and so I took two very deep breaths before I responded to her.
“I’m sorry, too,” I said. “I’m sorry for not coming to you first, for not talking to you about my concerns. I’m sorry for thinking I knew what’s best for you. I’m sorry for going to Vermont without telling you.”
I’m sorry for what I said to Henry. I’m sorry for sending him away.
But I couldn’t say that yet.
