Page 118 of A Summoned Husband

Olivia’s head slowly lifted and her eyes narrowed in on her mother-in-law. She shook her head, pushing her curls behind her ears before her face split with a wide smile. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Should we go check on the kids, Shenice?”

Shenice looked at her with wide eyes before she stood back up. “What?”

Olivia was on her feet, her arms wrapped around Shenice’s as she led her from the room. “Are you hungry? Should we cook something up?”

Shenice stuttered over her words. “W-we?”

“Mhmm… come on.” She peered back over her shoulder into the room, staring at me. Her eyes were black. Dark. Empty and full at the same time. This was not Olivia.

“You know, D’Andre never forgets to get the kids from the bus.” There was so much judgement in Shenice’s tone it made me want to deck her.

Olivia nodded. “I know. He is wonderful, isn’t he? The best dad I could have ever picked for the kids.”

“Glad you’re starting to realize it.” Shenice patted Olivia’s arm as they left the room, leaving me behind.

What the fuck?

Was the witch stealing all our bodies? Had she stolen the girls away just as she had me and was going to make each of us a home to her coven?

Fear iced my veins as I pushed off the floor and turned, once again assaulted by nothing but darkness.

Images illuminated the dark, moving past me in a blur. I clamped my hands over my ears as sounds tried to pour in all at once, making my head throb, filled to bursting.

“Stop it!” I yelled.

“Catalina!” Gran’s voice broke through the merry-go-round of blurred images forcing my mind to stall. My hands dropped from my ears as the darkness once again surrendered its hold. It tapered away, the black transforming to dark and skinny trees cast in a fog of light. I walked toward them because even now, I craved something besides the dark.

It was like walking onto a set. I had left the set of Olivia’s room and now I walked through the darkness that transformed into unfinished trees and scenery before the scene became real and I stood on a hill. The trees spaced out, giving way to rows upon rows of stone slabs.

“Catalina!” Gran wailed.

Gran held a framed photo to her chest as she lay in the dirt with tears in her eyes.

“This is not real,” she whimpered.

The sorrow in her voice was enough to make my knees shake. Even when she spoke about all we’d lost, she had never sounded so thoroughly broken.

“Gran!” I ran over, hands out ready to embrace her but fell onto my belly. I fell through her. I held up my shaking hands but they looked as real as they always were.

My chest vibrated with nervous energy.

“Gran,” I sobbed.

She couldn’t hear me.

Gran crawled over the grave and ran her finger over the lifted gold script.

Catalina Sofia Perez

The best friend, mother, and grandmother anyone could ask for

November 10, 1952 - August 7th 2024

My heart dropped so low I couldn’t feel it beating in my chest anymore. My ears rang as I was strangled by emotions that all tried to rush through me at once. I hiccupped, a sob keeping a full breath from leaving me as I stared down at the headstone that made my blood run cold.

“No.”

Gran reached a shaking hand inside her collar and pulled out the locket she always wore. She opened it, revealing an old photo of Abuela inside and a photo of me in the other. “Where are you, baby girl?”