Page 40 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)

“This is where you grew up?” Kendrick asks as we walk the streets of Fairscape.

Last night was so special, I was reluctant to face the day when the sun rose this morning. I relished those moments alone

with Kendrick, and I hated to return to our mission—the heavy reality of the task before us.

“After my mother left, yes. We lived just outside the city before we moved in with Madame Vivias, our aunt. It was a little

quieter there, but there were still a lot of people who didn’t have nearly as much as they needed.”

We rode horses from Amelia’s to the outskirts of Fairscape, but only the rich own horses here so we left ours with our friends

and decided to walk the rest of the way into town.

I look around and try to see the city from Kendrick’s eyes.

There’s so much poverty here—obvious in the litter, the state of the homes, and the unbathed children begging in the street.

So much need for basic necessities. I know Abriella has sent sentinels in disguise as humans and had them leave packages of food on porches, but without big changes at the top, there will always be too much suffering in this realm we used to call our home.

Kendrick tucks a handful of coins into the bag of a begging boy, and the child’s face lights up for a brief moment before

he pulls away, scared. “I can’t give you nothing for this, though.”

Kendrick shakes his head. “I’m not asking for anything.”

The boy looks skeptical, but we keep walking, and when I glance over my shoulder I spot him tucking the coins into his trousers

and running away.

A few minutes later, we reach a familiar gravel lane, and I point to the front stoop of a straw-roofed hut a few doors down.

“That’s where the witch was when she called me into her cottage.” An icy chill runs down my spine as I remember that day.

How could I have given up so much? How could I have let my fear and rage control me so completely?

“Want me to go investigate?” he asks. “You can wait here.”

“No.” I lift my chin. “I need to do this. She can’t hurt me.” I’m not even sure that’s true, but it doesn’t make sense that

she would. Not this close to the deal being completed.

Kendrick looks at me for a long time before nodding and offering his hand. “We’ll do it together.”

The street is lousy with people making their way to the market. We weave our way through them to get to the house on the other

side.

The three rickety wooden steps in front of the door aren’t big enough for us both, so Kendrick steps to the side of them while

I go up to knock.

I rap three times before dropping my hand, but nothing happens. It’s too noisy out here for me to know for sure, but I can’t even make out any sounds inside the small cottage.

“Who’re you?” a redheaded little girl with pigtails calls from the stoop next door. She’s combing the yarn hair of a battered

hand-stitched doll. “You know thems who live there?”

“I’m looking for the lady who lives here,” I say, descending the steps to get closer to her so we don’t have to shout. “Do

you know if she’s home?”

The little girl shrugs. “They never come out. Don’t think she’s there no more.”

“Dimpsy, who’re you talking to?” A young woman sticks her head out the door and scowls at us. She has dark smudges under her

eyes and flour on her apron. “What do ya need?”

“We’re looking for the woman who lives next door,” Kendrick says. “Could you maybe help us out?”

“What woman? Isn’t nobody living in that dump.” She leans down and takes her daughter by the arm, urging her into the house.

“It’s been about a year since I last saw her,” I say. “She was maybe in her sixties and had long, dark hair and walked with

a cane. If you could help me find her, it would really help me out.”

She nudges her child the rest of the way into the house before coming onto the stoop and closing the door behind her. “I don’t

know anybody round here like that, and the man who bought that place hasn’t been around in ages. Must be nice to have so much

money you can just buy houses and leave ’em to rot.”

“Do you know anything about the owner?” Kendrick asks. “His name or where we might find him?”

She grunts. “Nah. He kept to himself, but I wouldn’t have wanted to know him if I could’ve. Game me the creepy-crawlies, always watching my girl, always smirking.”

“What did he look like, if you don’t mind?”

She shrugs. “Long white hair, tall and rail thin, but not in a hungry way, ya know? He acted like somebody who didn’t know

what it was like to want for a darn thing.”

Kendrick and I exchange a look and I know we’re both thinking the same thing. Erith.

“Thanks for your help,” Kendrick says, reaching forward to shake her hand. She accepts it reluctantly, surprise registering

on her face when he passes over several coins.

“What now?” I ask as we walk back toward our friends at the edge of town. “I feel like that got us nowhere.”

“We have our answer on whether the witch was working with Erith or Mordeus,” he says. “But if no one has been there since

that witch met with you, then I’m not sure we’re going to find her through any of the neighbors. We’ll go back after dark

and see what we can find inside.”