Page 3

Corey

WHEN THE POLICE OFFICER ESCORTS COREY AND ALONSO OUT OF THE woods, their families are already waiting.

The Barrions are arranged on the porch of Meredith House, which has been their family home for over seventy-five years. Corey’s dad, James, stands at the front of the group, with Aunt Helen close behind. Leaning against the house is Aunt Helen’s son, Julian. Even from a distance, there’s a visible smile playing at his lips. Their live-in bodyguard, Warren, hovers on the lawn, keeping his eyes on Alonso. And Sofía Barrion Hirsch, Corey’s cousin once removed, is huddled with her ten-year-old daughter, Camila. Only Corey’s grandfather is missing, probably because he avoids the De Lucas at all costs.

There’s blood crusted at the edge of Corey’s mouth, and his head is pounding from the two punches Alonso landed. But Corey isn’t worried about how his family will react to the police being there, even if he is the only half-Black kid in a mostly white family. When it comes to the De Lucas, the Barrions’ hatred runs deep. They’ll probably throw Corey a celebratory dinner.

Across the street from Meredith House, Alonso’s mom stands at the end of her driveway, her white-blond hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head. Despite her six-foot height, Vera De Luca’s black lace cardigan is long enough to brush the dirt of their driveway. Behind her are her sisters: Donna De Luca is puffing on a cigarette, while Emilia De Luca shakes with silent sobs.

Corey can’t even look at them.

His dad comes to meet them in the street. “What happened here?”

Officer Erickson glances at Alonso’s mom, but she hasn’t moved. She’s watching from yards away, her expression impassive.

“Someone called us to report a violent altercation in the woods,” Officer Erickson says. “The kid didn’t give any names, probably because everyone was drinking underage at your son’s party.”

“Not me,” Alonso says. “I don’t have to be drunk to want to punch a Barrion in the— ouch , that hurts .”

“It’s not the time, De Luca,” Erickson says, not loosening his grip.

A smoky voice calls, “Is my son under arrest?”

It’s Alonso’s mom. She hasn’t moved from the driveway, but now she’s glaring at Alonso.

Officer Erickson shifts uneasily. “No, he’s not, but—”

Vera cuts him off. “Then I’d like you to take your hands off of him.”

Officer Erickson mumbles something, but he lets go of Alonso. “Ma’am, this is the second time this year these boys have gotten into a fight. Your son will be eighteen next year, and I won’t be so lenient anymore.”

“I understand.”

Officer Erickson crosses his arms. “Assuming you don’t want your son to have a criminal record, I’d like to suggest a mediation for your families. I know y’all have a complicated history, but maybe it’s time to put that behind you—”

Before Corey can stop himself, he says, “Respectfully, there’s no point. I think my family would agree with me.”

“We do,” his dad says. “There’s no way to mediate this mess.”

Alonso’s mom doesn’t bother responding. She just looks at Corey like he’s gum on the bottom of her shoe.

Officer Erickson looks back and forth between the two families, visible confusion on his face. He must be new. The rest of Idlewood’s tiny police force knows better than to encourage the Barrions and the De Lucas to “put the past behind them.” They all know the story of the fire that killed Corey’s grandmother at Meredith House almost fifty years ago.

But that wasn’t the last time a De Luca killed a Barrion.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to sort this out,” Officer Erickson says, trying to maintain an air of authority as the tension rises. “Don’t let it happen again.”

In a matter of seconds, the police officer is driving away, brake lights disappearing as he turns a corner in the distance.

Then it begins.

“I warned Corey your son would sabotage his night,” says Corey’s dad. His blond-and-gray hair shines with gel, and his suit is free of lines, even at midnight.

Vera De Luca ignores him. “Alonso,” she says, and he walks leisurely toward her, stretching his arms one by one as if he’s just finished a run around the neighborhood.

“Nothing to say?” Corey’s dad calls. “I guess that’s not surprising. You’ve won.”

Vera finally looks at him, her gaze cold and sharp, even in the dark. “We’ve won ?”

“Your father got what he wanted,” James says. “Even from beyond the grave, Giovanni is destroying our family.”

“This is not—” Alonso’s mom starts, but she cuts herself off. After a moment, her face rearranges into a cold mask. This time, she smiles, like this is some petty disagreement. “You think we wanted to lose everything?”

Corey’s adrenaline is suddenly back, full throttle. He doesn’t want to feel this way. It’s almost addicting, this kind of anger. If Corey let it control him, how would he go on every day? How would he go to school, think about college, or even field questions about his mom without losing control?

That’s how Alonso operates. And Corey won’t let himself stoop to that level. When you’re one of the only Black kids in a small town, you can’t let them see you angry. So he pushes his feelings down, down, down, imagines locking them up and throwing away the key. When he lets himself breathe again, he feels nothing.

“ You lost everything?” Corey’s dad says. “How can you look at any of us and say that? Your ex-husband isn’t dead, Vera. He realized what he was married to, and he left. A wise man.”

Alonso whirls around, but before he can take three steps toward Corey’s dad, Warren appears beside him. He grabs Alonso by the arms, holding him in place.

Donna De Luca throws herself against the banister of their rotting porch. “Get your hands off him!” she growls, breathing smoke through her nose like a dragon.

“Rein in your progeny first,” Corey’s dad says.

“You and your family want to take from the people of this town until nothing is left,” Vera says. “That’s all you’ve ever done. But we were here before your family arrived, and we’ll be here after you’re all gone. I promise you that.”

Her words knock the air out of Corey’s lungs, and his voice is weak and winded. “I guess that was the whole point of this curse, wasn’t it? To get rid of us?”

Curse .

The word hangs in the air, the five letters that have defined Corey’s life.

There are lots of rumors in Idlewood. Rumors about why Kyla McGuinness keeps getting lead roles in the school musicals even though she can’t hit an A-flat, or about how Anita Emberly’s café only stays open because she’s sleeping with the landlord. And then there are countless rumors about the De Lucas. About what goes on behind the walls of their creepy, disintegrating old house.

Magic , children whisper.

Evil , old ladies say.

And they’re both right.

Does Corey want people to know about the family curse? No. If everyone knew, they wouldn’t just pity Corey—they would be afraid of getting too close. Keeping it a secret means Corey can pretend to be normal. But in moments like this, with the De Lucas looking him in the face when they should be begging for forgiveness, Corey wishes he could shout it through a megaphone:

The De Lucas killed my mom! They killed so many members of my family! And if I ever fall in love, whoever she is, she’ll die, too!

It’s the reality that has haunted him ever since his mom died, when he realized that no one in his family would escape this curse untouched. Corey never had a chance at normalcy.

“My family,” Vera says, “already paid the price for what my dad did. The Council sealed our magic forever. You know this. What more do you want from us?”

“James.” Aunt Helen’s delicate hand alights on her brother’s shoulder. “It’s late. Let’s go inside.”

“No,” Corey’s dad snarls, pushing Aunt Helen’s hand away and jabbing a finger in Vera’s direction. “This will never end until you leave this town forever. I want everyone in Idlewood to forget your family ever existed.”

His words make even the cicadas go quiet. Corey stands at his dad’s side, and for a second, he thinks it’s over.

He’s wrong. Immediately, Alonso throws his head back, howling with laughter. “Are you joking? None of you assholes will ever forget about us. The curse hasn’t killed anyone in years, but we’re all you think about, aren’t we? Admit it, you’d miss us.”

Time slows at his words. There are shouts from the Barrions, but Corey can’t hear them. He gets the sensation he’s falling even though his body hasn’t moved an inch. Corey remembers the way Alonso singled out Penny Emberly at the party. Quiet, reserved Penny, who has probably never spoken a word to a De Luca in her life. Corey could see the mortification in her face, and it made it impossible to walk away from them. It was better to redirect Alonso’s attention than let him bully someone who didn’t deserve it. But that’s what Alonso’s family does: They scare and hurt people, and they enjoy every second of it.

“How dare you.”

The rage in Sofía Barrion’s voice brings Corey back to himself. She’s marching down the lawn in a silk robe, her long dark hair in a loose braid over her shoulder.

“How dare you mock us?” Sofía says, eyes trained on Alonso. “Do you know how many people we’ve lost because of you? Corey’s mother, my father, my own Ramón—”

James holds up a hand to silence Sofía. “You don’t have to remind them. They know. They just don’t care.”

Corey is rooted to the spot, watching his family fall apart. Aunt Helen starts whispering angrily to Corey’s dad. Sofía’s daughter, Camila, stands on the porch next to Julian, tears rolling down her face.

And through the front window of Meredith House, there’s movement.

The Barrions’ library sits in the front of the house, in a space that would usually be occupied by a living room. Its large window looks out onto the street—and onto the De Lucas’ home. Right now the drapes are pulled back, and while the lights are off, there’s a glow coming from the motion lights outside, and it lands on a figure in the window.

Charles Barrion watches the scene unfolding between his family and the coven that killed his wife. His chin is angled up, but his expression is unreadable from this distance.

Corey’s dad follows his gaze, and when he sees Charles Barrion standing in the window, his expression shutters. “Corey, go. Make sure he doesn’t come outside.”

This isn’t because Charles Barrion is senile, or he might trip down the stairs. Charles Barrion’s mind is sharp as ever. But James Barrion is afraid of what seeing the De Lucas might trigger in the Barrion patriarch. There’s a reason nobody is allowed to mention the De Lucas unless Corey’s grandfather mentions them first; he’s known to fly into a rage when the coven comes up.

Before Corey can go inside, Vera and Alonso retreat, walking past the overgrown gardens and broken statues that line the path to their house. Alonso holds the front door open for his mom and aunts, but he looks at the Barrions one last time.

“If you want us gone, why don’t you just burn us at the stake? That’s how people used to handle this kind of thing.”

Before Alonso can say anything else, his mother grabs him by the ear and drags him inside.