Page 15 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland

It’s not hard to believe. Just shut off everything you’ve ever learned about logic. And by that I mean, hell, yes, if you struggle to believe, you’re normal . You’re human.

—Evie Oxby, guest appearance on Queer Eye

Beatrice gave a laugh that felt more like a wheeze. “There’s no such thing as magic.” Enchanted mirrors existed only in movies. The only magic wand she’d ever held was her vibrator.

Somehow, she was shepherded back to the dining table. Astrid poured her another glass of wine in a fresh glass. “Just in case. You never know around here.”

Cordelia slid a slice of apple pie in front of her. “Eliza down at the bakery is a genius. Should I get some candles for us to blow out?”

“No, no, that’s fine.”

Minna joggled up and down in her chair as her arms first punched the air and then wrapped around her waist. Her face glowed. “If Gran can mention magic, we can, too, right? Mom!”

“Be patient, honey. This is a lot for Aunt Beatrice.”

“Beatrix,” muttered Astrid.

Cordelia held back the plate of pie she’d been about to slide in front of Astrid. “Mom, you agreed you’d play fair.”

Astrid said, “I am playing fair. I’m just using her real name.”

“Playing fair?” The frustration burst out of Beatrice before she could think what she’d say next.

But the words were all there, lined up and ready to go.

“How is any of this fair? What did you mean, that you took Cordelia and ran ? Does that mean my father doesn’t know about any of this?

” A wild hope rolled through her. Was it possible he was as clueless as she was?

Had he, perhaps, been searching for his lost family for decades?

“Oh, he knows,” said Astrid darkly. “And he was glad.”

“Explain.” Her father wouldn’t have just thrown away a child .

Astrid’s fingers fluttered on the stem of her wineglass. “There was an accident—I didn’t lie about that. He was driving. The car crashed.”

“More.” Beatrice pulled out her accounting I just caught you embezzling funds so don’t even try voice. “Right now.”

“Hoo boy.” Astrid’s gaze flicked upward. “Okay. It was dark and icy. He took a turn too fast, and we hit the guardrail of the bridge, but it didn’t hold. We went over.”

“Whoa.” Minna’s eyes were huge.

“The impact of hitting the water should have killed us all, but it didn’t. The car slid under, and I couldn’t get my seat belt off. Mitchell hit his head on the wheel, so there was blood everywhere.”

Her eyes focused on her knitting, Cordelia said evenly, “This is where you always said that he and Beatrice died. Can’t wait to hear this new version.”

“You weren’t ready to hear it.”

“You mean you weren’t ready to tell it.”

“ Anyway , even with the blood, he managed to get into the back seat and pry both of you out of your car seats. Both of you were laughing.” Astrid’s face twisted into a smile.

“Like it was the funniest thing that had ever happened to you. I still couldn’t get my seat belt off.

He yelled at me to break a window, to let the water fill the car.

Then the pressure of the water would let him open a door, and he’d swim you both up.

Then he’d come back for me. I knew he wouldn’t, of course—I wouldn’t have, either.

He’d have been too busy taking care of you both, making sure you were breathing.

There wouldn’t have been enough time for him to come back for me. ”

Beatrice wanted to protest, but there was no air in her lungs.

“So I reached for your hands, and I got them. In my right hand, I held one little Cordelia fist and one little Beatrice fist. With my left hand, I made a sign. I don’t know what happened next.

I promise you that’s true. All I know is that one minute we were inside the car, and then next all four of us were on the shore, all of us dripping.

You were both bawling by then, and I think Mitchell and I were, too. ”

None of this made sense. “I don’t get it.”

Astrid shrugged. “I’d honestly never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen a lot. I just took it for what it was, but it scared the living shit out of your dad. He’d put up with how you blew feathers out of your pillows and into the air, and with what you did with the mobile above your bed—”

Minna leaned forward. “I don’t know that one. What did they do?”

Astrid beamed, as if she was reporting that they’d learned to read at two.

“Oh, it was glorious. It was the moon and stars and sun, and they could make the whole room go into sunrise and then sunset, and once, I swear to god, there was a meteor shower under that thing. He hated it, threw it out. The two of you, together—you’ve always had it.

But the way you got us all out of the car…

he couldn’t handle it. He blamed me for it. ”

But what the hell was it ? A thousand questions filled her mind, so Beatrice grabbed the most important one. “Fine, so no one knows how we got to shore. Why did you leave with Cordelia?”

Her gaze slid sideways. “Shortly after that, not even a day later, she took the Knock from me. Grabbed it, really. She literally activated herself. After that, I had to leave to protect her. Cordelia was the strongest.”

What did that mean ? Had her mother decided Beatrice was bad at magic, of all things, and snatched the better kid?

Awesome. But she needed to understand something else first. “How could Dad allow you to take her, though?” Her father had always been so obvious with his love, so generous with it.

Nothing could convince Beatrice that he wouldn’t have felt the same about her sister.

Cordelia, she noticed, kept her eyes on her knitting, her mouth a thin line.

Astrid raised her shoulders and let them drop.

“I’m not a monster. I didn’t want to take both his babies from him.

I thought I was doing the right thing, and I think he was just grateful I didn’t take both of you.

He knew I could have. I know you won’t believe this, but it broke my heart to lose you, Beatrix. ”

Cry me a goddamn river. She was right—Beatrice didn’t believe it. “And you never looked for me.”

Astrid took a large bite of the pie. Around the mouthful, she said, “I didn’t have that right. I was the one who’d left you. I figured you’d find me if you wanted to know me.”

A mother who knew her own daughter was out there, motherless? Did that give her not only the right, but the responsibility, too? “But he didn’t tell me anything.”

“Seems to have worked out.” Astrid gave a too-sweet smile, revealing a piece of peel stuck in her teeth. “I knew it would. You found us.”

Minna said, “ I found her, actually.”

That was true. That was important.

“You did, kiddo.” Cordelia reached over and squeezed Beatrice’s hand. “And then you brought her to me. Yesterday was one of the happiest days of my life.”

Minna said, “The number one happiest day of her life was the day I was born. Dad’s, too.” A shadow crossed her face. “Mom always says…”

Cordelia smiled. “I always say he wanted nothing but you.”

“But—”

“But nothing!” Cordelia’s voice was too high, too light. “Beatrice, what do you think of the pie?”

The pie could have been stuffed with cotton balls and topped with shaving cream for all Beatrice had noticed.

So far, she’d managed only one bite. Pushing the plate away, she took a breath, then she crossed her arms. She stared at Astrid.

“You said you made a sign. In the car. What did you mean by that?”

“I drew a sigil in the air.”

“And that is?”

Astrid sighed. “Your lack of knowledge is truly pathetic.”

Anger lodged at the top of Beatrice’s throat. “Thanks so much for that.”

Minna looked at her grandmother. “Can I answer this?”

“Well. You can try .”

The girl tugged her chair closer to the table, as if trying to get nearer to Beatrice from the other side. “You know Reno’s tattoos?”

Beatrice nodded.

“You said they looked like words, but you couldn’t read them.”

Beatrice drew back sharply. “I didn’t say that.” She’d thought it. But she hadn’t said it. It would have sounded too bizarre. “All I said was that I used to draw things like that.”

Minna’s eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. That’s what you said. Anyway, do you ever do that nowadays? Do you still draw?”

“No.” The house on the beach, drawn in sand. The flames.

“Why did you stop?”

Dad’s face, furious in the lamplight of her bedroom. “My father said that artists were con artists and liars who made things up that didn’t exist in order to exploit the generosity of suckers.” It had been so startling coming from his gentle mouth that she stopped drawing immediately.

Liars. That was rich, coming from him.

“That’s too bad,” said Minna. “Sigils are cool.”

Beatrice’s heart flipped frantically. “But I still don’t know what they are .”

Astrid got up to rummage in a sideboard. “We’ll show you.”

“Mom—” Cordelia held out her hand. “We might want to wait?”

But Astrid ignored her and handed a small pad of paper and a pen to Minna.

“Thanks, Gran. Okay, I’m going to make a sigil right now, okay? It’s just a little bit of magic, that’s all.”

“Magic doesn’t exist.” Beatrice didn’t know how much she knew anymore, but that, at least, was easy. She lived in the real world, where numbers didn’t lie. Only people did.

Minna nodded easily, apparently undisturbed by Beatrice’s lack of belief. She moved the pen in a small circle on the page before closing her eyes.

The candle in front of Beatrice flickered.

Slowly and smoothly, the line Minna drew played out across the paper. One line and two loops, another loop, and then one that reversed back on itself. She looked like she was in no rush making what seemed like a doodle. A very pretty doodle, yes. But that’s all it was.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” said Astrid.

Minna held up the paper. “So here it is. Just a drawing. Then I charge it with power.” She glanced at Cordelia. “Can I? This once?”

“Fine.” Cordelia nodded. “But use the can for safety.”

Mystified, Beatrice watched as Minna rose and took a metal can from behind the door to the kitchen, and then placed it on top of the table.

She held the paper over a candle’s flame. The page caught, the drawn symbol turning black and disappearing. Minna dropped what was left of the paper into the can.

The moment should have been mildly exciting. Perhaps amusing. Definitely strange and confusing.

But instead, Beatrice felt something.

A warmth spread inside her chest, a pool of something liquid and sweet.

It felt good , like when you stood in a sunbeam on a chilly morning, or like pulling up the covers after a long, hard day.

It came out of nowhere, and she knew it came from a place outside herself.

She wasn’t making herself feel like this, which should have been worrisome, but it wasn’t.

It was, instead, deeply comforting. Like being hugged but from the inside.

She pressed her hand to her chest. “What—Minna, what did you do ?”