Page 56 of Summer of Salt

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

But alas, the rules of sisterhood: if your sister took residence in the boughs of a tree, you were obligated to go and visit.

I rubbed my palms against my clothes, drying them.

“I’m not great at climbing trees,” I said to Prue, who’d appeared beside me.

“And just to be clear, if you fall, you won’t float?” she asked.

“Sink like a stone,” I confirmed.

“Be careful,” she said.

I started to climb. A few feet up I realized I’d blown a perfectly good opportunity for a tearful farewell kiss, but it was too late to go back and rectify that. I concentrated on the task at hand.

Mary watched me with some interest, but she didn’t offer any tree-climbing tips. It was just as well. I didn’t think I could listen to tips while at the same time not plummeting to my death.

Luckily, the tree was fairly easy to climb, offering many sturdy branches at very manageable intervals. I was on level with Mary after only a few minutes. I immediately madethe mistake of looking down.

She put a hand on my arm to steady me.

Her fingers felt like feathers, but when I looked at them, they were just fingers.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” I asked.

“I woke up this morning and I thought to myself, I suppose I’ll go climb a tree,” Mary said, shrugging, like it was perhaps the most normal thing in the world for young women to spend their free time in the branches of big trees.

“‘I suppose I’ll go climb a tree’? Nobody talks like that, Mary.”

“My legs hurt. From walking.”

“So you thought you’d give them a restin a tree?”

“It’s not as weird as you’re making it sound.”

“It feels pretty weird. Harrison and Prue think it’s pretty weird.”

Suddenly nervous, Mary asked, “They didn’t tell anyone else where I was, right?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, no—Harrison came to get me.”

“Okay. You’re sure?”

“Who else would he tell?”

“I just don’t want anybody to know where I am.” She frowned and rubbed her fingers against her temples, like she had a headache. Her eyes, her mouth, her jaw, her shoulders... everything looked smaller. Was something wrong with my eyes?

“Are you hiding from someone?” I asked.

“Evil man,” she said, and I tried to remember if I’d told my sister what the Ouija board had said.

And then something clicked.

“You were in the barn with him,” I said. “You didn’t kill Annabella, but you know you did.”

“It’s not fair to read minds,” Mary said, squinting. “Is that your thing?”

“No, it’s not my thing, I—I found your necklace. In the loft.”