Page 54 of The Curse of Indy Moore (The Cursed Duology #1)

Where Indy Writes Her Future

Mr. Hawthorne tied the pendant at the end of a string that he put around my neck. His fingers brushed my nap. Even that gentle pressure had my breath catching. When he spoke, his words brushed against my ears, “I wish I had this done sooner.”

The last three days, he lived in the office.

Professor Kumir and Otis left him to his devices, knowing full well that enchantments were his domain.

We convinced him to eat once, where he proceeded to lecture us through the doorway about how short we were on time and he didn’t need anything as “frivolous” as food.

His growling stomach following him from the office to the kitchen a moment ago said otherwise.

I pinched the pendant between my fingers, a simple piece of metal inscribed by a dazzling array of runes. “I appreciate that you got this done at all.”

“You need to be wearing this against Carline. I thought a necklace would work. It should stay on after you shift,” he said, but it was more like he was mumbling to himself while circling me. “I wish we could test it, but unfortunately, you will have to trust me.”

“That’s asking a lot.”

He gave my favorite crooked smile that made his eyes a shade brighter. “I’m relieved to know you’re in a good enough mood to tease me. That’s a good sign, Miss Moore.”

His hand fell on his stomach that shrieked with reckless abandon.

“Sit, and eat,” Otis ordered from across the island, where he sat a full plate of breakfast and slid it across.

Mr. Hawthorne dropped beside me. Though he ate properly, I saw the desire in his eyes to stuff his mouth full. Slate fluttered by the open kitchen window. Normally he’d be in here stealing our food, but perhaps even he sensed that interrupting Mr. Hawthorne now would end terribly.

Clutching the pendant, I asked, “What am I to do with this?”

“Today, you must think of all the reasons you wish to live your life, all the so-called greedy reasons, especially.” He pointed a fork toward me in warning.

“All those thoughts will channel into the pendant and should give you enough focus to maintain yourself for twenty minutes, give or take a few. I know it isn’t much, but that’s all I could manage with the allotted time. ”

And if it doesn’t work, I was tempted to ask, and no doubt the others were, too. However, none offered even a moment of pessimism. They likely discussed what would happen afterward if our plan went awry. I didn’t want to hear it because my thoughts were already haunting enough.

I had been fearing this night since Professor Kumir told us I had until the full moon.

Now that it was here, it hadn’t sunk in the way I expected.

I woke up the same as I always had—well, fifteen minutes earlier than usual.

I came to the kitchen, where Otis and Professor Kumir cooked breakfast. We sat down to eat without talking about Carline, the curse, the full moon, none of it.

Mr. Hawthorne coming in with the pendant was the first acknowledgement that tonight would be the end, in one way or the other .

That was the first time I held the pendant and thought, tonight won’t be the end. Tonight will be the beginning of something new, something better.

“I should head home today. I want to talk to my family, and I have things to say,” I announced.

Things that should have been said long ago, but it took getting cursed to face those truths. They were right that I would do most of the work, and that work started with being honest.

“Do we have time to get there?” I asked, realizing how far Ivory House could have traveled by now.

“Of course. We’ve been heading back for days now. We’ll leave immediately.” Mr. Hawthorne stood.

I grabbed his arm, surprised by how that so easily stopped him. “Finish your breakfast first. You’ll get crabby otherwise.”

“Crabby?” he echoed, returning to his seat. My hand lingered, and he made no move to push me away. “I do not get crabby. I am a professional, and sometimes professionals must miss a meal or two. I am perfectly capable of controlling my emot—”

I took his plate, and his left eye twitched uncontrollably.

“Shall I finish your breakfast for you?” I raised my fork to do so.

His smile was so painful it made my own cheeks ache.

“Let’s not be drastic,” he said, grabbing the plate that I released. He used an arm to guard the meal and the other to carefully get more on his shaking fork. When I stood, he leaned back, making the table laugh.

“I’ll be in my room when you’re done,” I said, finding it rather funny how I so easily referred to the place as mine now. It was my room, and as I held the pendant, I told myself that I wanted the room to remain mine for the foreseeable future.

Leaving the kitchen, I went upstairs, where Miss Beamy slept on the bed. She purred when I scratched under her chin.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked, yawning and stretching .

“Better than I thought,” I admitted from the desk, where a couple of letters sat unopened, from my family and Baxter.

The letters arrived yesterday. I didn’t have the heart to read them. I considered writing to them because I feared seeing my aunt before tonight would worsen me. Now, I knew that I needed to see her. I needed to see all of them and do what Mr. Hawthorne said.

All the reasons I wanted to live, especially the greedy ones.

I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote two quick letters to inform my aunt and Baxter that I’d be visiting today.

Then I got out another and tapped my quill on the page over and over until the ink bled.

Crumbling the paper, I tossed it and brought out another and another until a hand fell on the desk.

“You’re getting nowhere,” Mr. Hawthorne said, wearing the cloak he wore that time he brought me back to Westshire. “Who are you writing to?”

My shoulder brushed against his chest. When I looked up, his face was right there, a mere breath away, and my mind raced, wondering what he’d do if I moved up just a little. I looked away before I did something stupid.

“Myself, I suppose. You said to think of all the reasons I wanted to live,” I answered.

“Are you having that hard of a time writing it? Then let me start for you.” He took the quill and, in his elegant writing, put down the first line.

I want to travel across the seas.

“How do you know if I want to do that?” I asked.

“You were staring at those boats like you wanted to get on one.”

“They’re big and different and interesting. Doesn’t mean I want to sail.”

“Who said anything about sailing? If you stay here, we can go wherever you would like.”

“We?” I echoed, feeling that smile he had put on me so effortlessly of late.

“I will take you anywhere in the world, Miss Moore, if you would allow me the opportunity.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and his fingers stayed there. “ I will buy you the jewels you feign not to adore. The envies you have had all your life, I would fulfill.”

“Why?” I whispered, imagining all the moments I got my hopes up, all the times I let someone fill the void, only for them to leave it deeper, darker, emptier.

His hand stayed there, caught in my hair, when all I wanted was to feel him. I thought he would give me that, that he leaned in just a little, that his eyes strayed to my lips, wanting to know what it was like to feel his.

He hesitated, lingering there, then fell away. “Finish up this list today. We don’t have much time to spare,” he said and walked to the door. “We’ll be waiting in the foyer.”

He was gone, leaving me wanting, confused if I misread the situation, and greedy, so greedy for his touch and his voice and all he had to offer.

If I could spend a thousand days, a thousand years, a thousand lives in Ivory House with him, I would, and what a thought that was.

So, I held the pendant and thought that over and over as I stood.

“That was interesting,” Miss Beamy declared from the bed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I opened the closet; the suitcase sat open, my old clothes within. On the rack, there were dozens more, and even four new dresses that Mr. Hawthorne shouldn’t have had the time to enchant, and yet he had.

Laughing, I picked one after the other to hold against my chest and admire in the mirror, thinking of all the places we could go in them.

“Very interesting,” Miss Beamy laughed.

“Stop that,” I muttered, grabbing a darker dress that matched Mr. Hawthorne’s cloak. Maybe it was silly, but if I was going to lose myself today, I wanted to be a little silly.

After I got dressed, Miss Beamy hopped off the bed to rub against my leg.

“Good luck,” she said. “Come home soon.”

“Did he tell you he invited me to stay?” I asked while kneeling to pet her.

“No, but I suspected he would.”

Leaning over, I kissed her head while holding the pendant. “I’ll be back.”

In the foyer, everyone waited. The professor didn’t say goodbye, she just hugged me. “We’ll have much to talk about when you return. You may be the star of my next book, if you are open to it.”

Sniffling, Otis tried to keep on a brave face while hugging me so tightly my sides ached.

“I’m not crying because I’m worried. These are toys of joy.

I simply cannot wait for you to return. There is so much we can do, so many places we can go.

I’ll have a list of suggestions made, and we can go over them. ”

“I’d like that very much.” I kissed his cheek before accepting Mr. Hawthorne’s arm.

We took the same path out of Ivory House as we did when we first met, but this time, we walked arm in arm. Mr. Hawthorne gave me a slow once over that put far too much warmth in my cheeks.

“I like the dress you chose,” he said with a knowing smile.

“Thank you for making more. I know you’ve been busy.”

“I’ll lose more hours of sleep for you, Miss Moore.”

Blushing, I squeezed his arm.