Page 26 of Alchemy of Secrets

Gabe kicked the door shut as Chance reached the sidewalk. “I don’t like that guy,” he muttered.

“You didn’t have to hurt his feelings.” Holland ripped herself free of Gabe’s arms.

He looked utterly unapologetic. “He’s not your friend.”

“Yes, he is—or he was,” Holland said.

Gabe shook his head. “You can’t trust him. Trust me.”

“Didn’t you just tell me not to trust you, because you’re not a good person?”

“Exactly. I’m not a good person, and I can tell you that there’s something off about that guy.”

“Chance has been my friend for years,” Holland argued.

“Not your friend.” Gabe turned his dark eyes back to the journal. “What were you saying about a list of dates?”

“Nothing really. Only that you were right. There’s a list of numbers in here, and the final number is for this month and year.” Holland shut the journal, as if there was nothing more to say.

“Let me see it,” Gabe said.

“See what?”

“The journal.”

Holland’s fingers tightened around it. She knew she was being petty.

But the stunt with Chance confirmed that she really didn’t know Gabe well, and she didn’t feel like sharing more with him just then.

Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she needed him anymore.

If she was right, and her father had hidden the Alchemical Heart in his safety deposit box, then all Holland needed to do was open the box tomorrow morning.

“Why are you acting cagey?” Gabe asked. “Is this because of your little boyfriend?” He took an intentional step forward.

Holland took one back. “Stop trying to intimidate me. And if you want me to be less cagey , I need you to do the same. I need answers about my sister.” Holland nodded toward Gabe’s exposed wrist. A little bit ago, he’d said the meaning behind the tattoo didn’t matter, but Holland didn’t believe him.

Holland knew January loved her. She also knew that sometimes her sister’s form of love was very different from Holland’s. January saw the world as a much harsher place than Holland did and felt as if she needed to protect her from it.

Holland wanted to believe that was why her sister was keeping secrets.

January probably thought she was doing the right thing.

And maybe she was. Maybe January’s secrets were the reason Holland was able to see the world in the bright Technicolor way that she did.

But Holland liked to think that even if she knew harsh truths, she could still hold on to her hope and her belief that the world was full of magic—the wondrous, treasure-hunt kind of magic—and she could find it if she just reached her hand out far enough to grab it.

“I just want to know how much my sister has been hiding from me,” Holland went on. “Does she know about all these myths and legends the same way you seem to? How did she get involved in all this?”

Gabe stared down at Holland the way she imagined a wolf might eye a fluffy white bunny or a fire might glare at a marshmallow, as if there was no contest. “I’m not answering your questions.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t believe in a lot of things, but I believe in loyalty. January’s secrets are hers; they aren’t mine to share.”

On another occasion Gabe’s loyalty might have been commendable, but this just felt like an excuse to leave Holland in the dark. She turned away and marched down the hall.

“Where are you going?” Gabe asked.

Holland kept marching.

Gabe grabbed her arm and spun her around, a spark of frustration finally cracking his stony facade. “You can’t just run off like this.”

“I’m not running off. This is my house. And if you’re not going to tell me anything about my sister, I’m going to figure it out for myself.” Holland pulled free as Gabe said some nonsense about needing to leave because it wasn’t safe.

“You’re welcome to come with me if you want,” she said as she stepped inside the guest room.

January’s favorite color was blue, and so Holland had piled the bed with blue pillows, bought a blue gingham carpet for the floor, and even filled in the floating shelves with only pale blue books.

January’s job required her to travel a lot, and whenever she was in LA she came to stay with Holland. January actually visited often enough to leave a number of clothes here, along with a backpack.

Gabe stepped into the room just as Holland opened the closet and pulled out the backpack. Hair ties, ticket stubs, spare change, and pieces of mail cascaded out. For all January’s intelligence, she’d never learned to use a trash can.

Gabe leaned against the doorway. He’d put his shirt and his coat back on, and was now eyeing Holland curiously as she started to dig through January’s miscellanea. “What do you think you’re going to find in there?”

“More than you’re willing to tell me.” Holland riffled through a few more items, until she came to two thick emerald-green envelopes.

They were the sort of fancy envelopes that might have carried wedding invitations, except that they were in the shape of business correspondence.

One had January’s name and address. The other had Holland’s. January’s letter was already open.

“I don’t think you should touch those.” Gabe shoved away from the doorframe as Holland started to rip open the letter addressed to her.

“Why not?” she asked.

Gabe was now just a foot away. He looked like he wanted to rip the letter from her hands, but he also looked afraid to touch it. “That’s from a place you don’t want to mess with,” he said, as Holland unfolded a cream-colored piece of paper.

First Bank of Centennial City shimmered across the top in green ink.

And Holland instantly knew who this letter was from. She could hear Mr. Vargas’s voice saying, Did you not receive my letters?

Why had her sister kept this a secret?

She might have asked Gabe, but he’d already made clear his stance on January’s secrets, and he was still staring at the letter as if it were a lit stick of dynamite.

“Why don’t you like this bank?” Holland asked.

Gabe pulled at the back of his neck, looking supremely uncomfortable. “It’s evil.”

At that moment, the room grew lighter. A car with too-bright headlights was driving down the street. It stopped in front of her driveway, completely blocking Gabe’s car.

He suddenly reached down and grabbed Holland’s hand. “We need to go.”