Page 31

Chapter 31

Cookies for Heartbreak

O ur relationship will not be brought to the Directors. We will not have to sign anything or be put on trial or face a punishment—because there is no relationship. It’s over.

Natalie walks away with forgiveness, and why wouldn’t she? Everyone likes her here. She’s been part of the coven since she was a kid, and she’s never had to fight to prove her loyalty.

As for me?

I’m alone in my room in a ringing silence, pacing as I process this abrupt end. After a last, cold stare, Natalie and Fiona left me in the corridor, my chest so tight I thought I would suffocate, my eyes stinging until the hallway became a blur.

I can’t stay here anymore. I don’t know what I’m fighting for, and I don’t know what I’m fighting against . I’m just a pawn in a game I barely understand. Is locking up bio magic really the right answer when it could stop so much suffering? Would setting it free just mean trading one type of suffering for another? I’m not the person to solve this problem. I just want to go back to normal life and normal decisions—away from magic and oaths.

Natalie has chosen CSAMM over me, and I can’t blame her. I don’t want her to sacrifice everything she’s worked her life for, so it’s better if I go. It’ll be easier to get over each other if we aren’t living in the same building.

So, that evening, I take one last look around the cozy suite that has been my home these past weeks. I touch the bonsai tree beside the bed, its soft leaves tickling my fingers, already missing it.

I place Ethel into her kennel and extend the handle of my suitcase, which is crammed with my ever-dwindling belongings. I’m only making one trip, so I’ll have to leave half my stuff behind. At this rate, a few more moves and I’ll have nothing left but Ethel and my laptop.

Inhaling the room’s earthy scent one last time, I back up through the door and into the corridor. I use my suitcase as a crutch, limping heavily on my bad ankle. The rolling wheels and my uneven footsteps reverberate off the brick walls, a hum that fills my chest until it’s ready to burst.

If the people in the lounge see me and wonder where I’m going, they don’t stop me to ask. Maybe they’ll come for me when they find out I’ve left, or maybe not. My oath didn’t say I’m trapped for life. And they sure as hell don’t care enough to fight to keep me here.

Passing the Library wing, that familiar sensation of nearby magic tugs at me, a hook sinking into my core and pulling me toward it. This place is a cavern of secrets—worse than an Egyptian tomb, worse than a haunted mansion, worse than a treasure chest that’s been bolted shut, thrown into the ocean, and guarded by sharks. I’m not meant to know why that particular corridor beckons me to follow its winding halls so badly, and I have to accept that.

I keep going to the exit, where I stare up at the underside of the steam clock, its inner workings churning away—my first view when Natalie brought me into this world. I don’t know how I’ll get out without being escorted, but surely someone will pass by eventually and can bring me with them.

I wait, bitterness rising as I stand here, helpless to do so much as leave the building without magic. Like a cat needing someone with thumbs to open its crate.

Soon, quick footsteps approach, and I stiffen.

The two middle schoolers who talked to me in the courtyard come racing down the hallway, their smiles fading when they see me standing there like a runaway.

“Heading up?” I ask them.

The boy nods. “Going ice skating. Are—are you leaving?”

“I’d like to.” I shift my weight, wincing. “Can you bring me out with you?”

“Where are you going?” the girl asks.

“Home. I’m not cut out for this place.”

Her big eyes widen. “But the Madsens—”

“Are finished with me,” I say. I made my stance clear to Freddie, and he made it clear that he’s done asking me to join him.

Voices hum around the corner, and my heart jumps. I don’t want to face anyone else right now.

“Come on.” I wave the kids over, positioning myself beneath the clock.

They exchange a look, then nod, moving to stand on either side of me.

I let out a breath of relief, grateful I don’t have to endure a confrontation.

The hall blurs, my ears popping, and they lift me into the chilly wind of an ordinary Vancouver evening. As their hands fall away, I stumble for balance on the cobblestones, the harsh street lights replacing the warm glow of CSAMM’s halls .

There’s no sign of the world I’m leaving, only the clock billowing steam into the inky sky. It begins to play a familiar tune—the Westminster Chime melody, its long, haunting whistles signaling eight o’clock.

I square my shoulders and tighten my grip on the kennel and suitcase.

Time to find out where I belong in this city… and leave CSAMM behind forever.

For the next two weeks, I go to class and occupy my rented suite like I was meant to do all along. I ignore Natalie’s calls and instead text her to tell her I’m fine, and eventually, she stops checking. I sink back into my old life, the gutter runoff pattering on the walkway outside the window, my diffuser working to mask the musty smell, and my stack of textbooks on quick rotation on my desk as midterms approach.

But even with Ethel’s company, the lifeless basement is colder and lonelier than I remember. This place isn’t home—it never was.

Sitting in my lectures, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, I feel like a stranger in my own life. Despite my efforts to balance everything, I’m behind in coursework, which feels dull compared to the world of magic and curses. Any connections I made last term have withered, and I haven’t talked to Hazel in weeks.

Lying awake each night, wishing for Natalie’s warmth beside me, I’ve never felt more alone. I’d be happier if I never met Natalie or found out about CSAMM… Or if I never moved away from home in the first place.

The Wednesday before reading week, as I’m studying at my desk with Ethel on my lap, my phone beeps with a text.

I blink at it. It’s the group chat with Clayton and the others living on campus.

Clayton

Hey all! Drinks on Friday?

My heart lifts with the first glimmer of hope in a while. I assumed they’d given up on me. But maybe I’m still part of the group, even if I don’t feel like it.

Johnny

Works for me

I hesitate. What will they think if I suddenly talk to them again after being silent for the entire month since New Year’s?

Well, nothing to lose.

Katie

I’m in

I stare at the chat, holding my breath for their response.

Andrea

Katie!!!!

Mo

Whoa, has Katie risen from the dead?

Shame fizzes in my gut. Yup, I ghosted.

Katie

Ha. Sorry, I’ve been busy with personal stuff

Andrea

Everything ok?

Katie

Yeah, thanks. I’d love to see you all this weekend

Andrea

Yay! We’ve missed you

I re- read the words, not believing them. A warm wave of relief hits me, and my heart thaws a little. Maybe I was too dismissive of my friendship with these people—and maybe making friends in university is easier than I thought, just like Hazel said.

As the texts fly back and forth with evening plans, I rub my forehead and let out a breath of resignation. It’s time to move on—from both Natalie and CSAMM. I have a degree to earn and friendships to repair, and it’s not too late to reclaim the normal university life I should’ve had.

Bolstered, I grab my laptop and video call Hazel.

She answers from her laptop, her messy bedroom behind her and a tired look on her face. “Hey, bestie.”

The tension in my head eases at the sight of her. “Been a while. Surviving?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’ve been…” Her voice is thick. Her face is blotchy, her eyes puffy.

Wait, is she crying?

My heart plummets. “What happened?”

She blinks a lot, making a pitiful attempt at a brave face. It crumbles instantly. “Sean and I broke up.”

I gasp and grab my screen with both hands as if to reach through it and hug her. “No!”

“He said he wanted to focus on school and didn’t have time for a relationship. I sh-should’ve n-noticed the signs…” Hazel waves a hand, drawing a shaky breath. “He obviously didn’t f-feel the same w-way about…” She puts her elbows on her desk and her palms on her face, and her shoulders shake as she dissolves into tears.

My heart bursts, all the little pieces sinking like stones. I clutch the collar of my sweater as the news smothers my own problems. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I wish I could be there to hug you right now.”

“Thanks.” She rubs both hands down her face, her breath hitching. “I could picture our whole future. I know that’s ridiculous when we weren’t even together long… but you know me… I fall hard…”

“It’s not ridiculous,” I say gently. “Falling hard is a beautiful thing, and you’re meant to be with someone who reciprocates.”

She nods, her face twisting as she fights back tears. She grabs a tissue and aggressively wipes her eyes. “Men suck. Tell me you and Natalie are still happy and there’s joy in the world.”

I grimace. “Actually…”

She gasps, dropping her hands and sitting taller. “No!”

“I… sort of went behind her back for information. She’s really mad at me—and I’m not sure how I feel, to be honest.”

Hazel sits back in her chair, her tears stopping. “What information?”

I hesitate. “I needed to know more about what they were having me do. With the curses and all. I… don’t regret finding out the details.”

Her shoulders slump. “It sucks you had to go around Natalie.”

“Yeah.” My eyes prickle and a lump rises in my throat. I blink, forcing the tears to stay down.

We stare at each other through the video call, two heartbroken, teary-eyed girls, and homesickness wells inside me worse than ever.

“Man, this would be a really good weekend for cookies and binge-watching,” I say with an attempted laugh. But it comes out hollow. It stings that we can’t spend time together when we both desperately need it.

“I know.” Hazel sighs. “What are you going to do during reading week?”

Ugh, that’s next week already. And I’m going to spend it totally alone.

I shrug.

Hazel chews her lip, then grabs her mouse, her eyes narrowing in determination. “I’m booking a flight.”

“What? Where? ”

She laughs. “To you, dork. I’ll come for reading week.”

My heart jumps. “You don’t have to! I can come there.”

“No, I want to come to Vancouver. It’ll be fun. I loved visiting over Christmas, and you can show me the stuff we missed out on during the last visit.”

Lightness tingles through my head at the prospect of not spending the break alone. I can’t think of a better way to pass the time than with my bestie, getting over our breakups together, and laughing and being ridiculous like normal.

“That would be really, really nice,” I admit, and the tension in my face eases as I smile for the first time in two weeks.

As reading week begins, I bus to the airport to meet Hazel, my heart lighter in anticipation of seeing her. This week will be a much-needed reminder of who I was before all this business about curses and witches—a reminder that I have people who accept me as I am, who don’t need me to prove myself as a prerequisite. And really, there’s nothing like a big dose of unconditional love to help a girl get over a breakup.

As Hazel bounds toward me in Arrivals, we crash together in a jumping hug. The familiar scent of her shampoo hits me, and for a moment, I feel like I’m back home.

“I know just where to go to get cookies the size of our faces,” I announce, grabbing her carry-on bag.

We get cookies, visit Chinatown to keep eating, then hit up a craft brewery—a perfect, normal evening with my perfectly normal best friend. The next morning, we continue the tour, first heading to the Harbour Centre to ride the glass elevator and look over the city. I’m lighter than I’ve been in weeks—and while my ankle is still mangled and I’m generous with the painkillers, I no longer need a crutch, freeing us to walk unimpeded.

“Damn, look at that view,” Hazel says, pulling out her phone. It’s sunny for once, the world around us bright and blue. She raises her phone—and pauses, squinting at a message she’s received. She reads it, her lips parting, and turns to me with a gleam in her eyes. “I’ve got good news.”

“What?!” I cry so dramatically that the nearest people turn. I cover my mouth.

Hazel looks ready to burst, a smile lifting her cheeks. “I accepted a co-op job offer with a renewable energy company.”

I gasp. “Yes! That’s amazing!”

“And,” she says with the air of someone about to drop a bombshell. “It’s in Vancouver.”

My jaw unhinges. “Like… you’ll be moving here for four months?”

She nods, grinning.

I scream and throw my arms around her. “Oh my God! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

She waves her phone. “I wanted to wait until it was confirmed.”

I scream some more and wrestle her into a tighter hug, earning more stares.

She laughs and hugs me back. “I’m nervous. It was brave of you, moving away from home. You’ll have to show me how to survive here.”

I scoff. “You’ll be the one showing me! You fit in everywhere. I’ve done a terrible job adjusting and haven’t stopped being homesick.”

Hazel tilts her head, studying me. “Katie, you’ve adjusted fine. You’ve made friends, you know where to go for the best food, you have a favorite grocery store, a walking loop, a hairdresser… Stop denying it. You’ve sprouted roots.”

I stare at her, the bright Vancouver metropolis sprawling around us. I’ve been resisting calling this city home, thinking of it as a temporary arrangement while I finish school. But in the six months I’ve lived here, it has become home. I’ve gotten to know bits and pieces of it—the Granville Island market, the historic town of Fort Langley, the best places for food and drink, thrift stores, pet shops… the Gastown steam clock. I’ve grown and changed here, made memories here, and all with people I recently met. Friends , if I dare to use the word.

A wave of something unexpected washes over me. It’s not just relief, but a rightness I haven’t felt since leaving Toronto. The future I’d pictured, the one that always had me returning home after graduation, suddenly feels blurry and uncertain. What if that’s not the only option? What if the community I’ve been starving for is right here, waiting for me to settle into it?

I smile. “Moving away isn’t so bad. Plus, we’ll have each other.”

We head back to my place to make lunch, planning where we’ll live and how to decorate our home when she moves here. Obviously, we’ll have to be roommates.

As we pass through the gate and around the side of the house, my ankle throbs with every step, begging for more painkillers. I let Hazel go ahead so she doesn’t see me limping. I might’ve been overly ambitious with the amount of walking today.

She reaches the back porch and calls out to me. “You’ve got a package.”

I furrow my brow. “I didn’t order anything. Is it for my roommate?”

“It’s got your name—and there’s a note!” Excitement floods her tone, and she gasps. “Katie, is it from Natalie?”

My heart leaps, a surge of hope catching me off guard. I tamp it down and hobble to catch up, needing to see for myself.

“ See you soon, sweetheart ,” Hazel reads, squatting down in front of a paper shopping bag. “Aww!”

Cold prickling spreads across my skin. The words, the tone… It’s off. Natalie has never called me sweetheart. In fact, the last time someone called me that was …

My ankle throbs, pulsating, heat licking up my leg. Then, as quickly as it came, the pain gives way to a different sensation—a tug inside me, a desire to step closer to whatever is in the bag.

“Look!” Hazel exclaims, pulling the gift out to show me.

It’s a plush dog. A German Shepherd.

Its glassy eyes stare blankly at the sky, its fur engulfing Hazel’s small fingers.

She turns it, studying it from all directions.

“Do you think she’s—holy hell!” She ducks as a sparrow dive-bombs her, chirping furiously.

“Drop it!” I shriek, jolted into action by the unhinged bird.

I lunge for Hazel and bat the toy out of her grasp.

But even as it falls to the ground, I know it’s too late. She’s already touched it.

The sparrow circles back, chirping louder.

The curse has been unleashed.