Page 44 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland

Funny. She didn’t know Cordelia at all, but she knew when she was lying. “You don’t have to. You owe him absolutely nothing.”

“He’s our father.”

“I love Mitchell. I worry about his high blood pressure and his diabetes. I worry whether he’s going to the doctor often enough and if he remembers to take his pills.

I’m weirdly glad he’s here, even though I’m furious with him.

But he’s a stranger who let you go, and who hid you from me for our whole lives.

If you feel about him the way I do about Astrid, you’re allowed to go as slow as you like.

Even if that includes never getting to know him at all. ”

“But… I feel like I should at least say hello.”

“You make every rule. Every single last one.”

Cordelia pressed her hand. “Thank you.”

Together, they watched the dancers. The tempo slowed as the band shifted into something more romantic. Some couples broke apart, laughing and thanking each other.

Fritz and Winnie kept dancing.

“You sure that was a Push-Me-Pull-You and not a love thingy?”

“I’m sure. Those only last a second or two. If there’s a stirring in their loins, we didn’t do it.” Cordelia’s gaze was glued on Mitchell and Astrid. “Look at them. I’ve never seen Mom dance when it didn’t involve a moon ritual. She doesn’t dance. Not like that.”

Naya had loved to dance, but Mitchell had always claimed two left feet. At weddings and parties, Beatrice was always Naya’s dance partner. “Well, Dad doesn’t dance. Ever.”

But together, their mother and father moved like a thawing river finding its course.

If she hadn’t known them, Beatrice would have been charmed by the sight of the two tall, white-haired people gliding through the crowd of other dancers, moving as if they’d danced together for decades, as if they’d never been parted.

“That cape she’s wearing is a whole mood.

Drama.” Something struck her. “Shit. Did we parent-trap them by accident?”

“Ew,” said Cordelia.

“Triple ew. I’m not okay with this.” Astrid might kill him. If not with a spell, then with her terrible attitude.

“Me, neither. I know he’s your dad and you love him, but he’s a liar.”

Beatrice tilted her head. “Yeah, well, your dad’s a liar, too, you know.”

Cordelia sent her a crooked grin.

Suddenly, Astrid and Mitchell stopped dancing.

Rather, Mitchell stopped, and Astrid whirled against him with a thump.

Their words didn’t carry far, but their rigid body language was clear.

Beatrice knew when her dad was pissed, and Astrid was a pretty easy read, too, with the way her cheeks flamed red and her crimson lips thinned.

Cordelia moved a ficus branch to see more clearly. “Trouble in paradise, you think?”

Beatrice snorted.

Astrid swept through the dancers by herself, and Beatrice would have felt sorry for her abandoned father if he hadn’t looked so furious himself. A moment later, he stormed off in the opposite direction.

Cordelia turned to face Beatrice. “Can I admit I’m relieved?”

“Hoo, boy. Me, too.”

Her sister flapped a hand in front of her face. “I don’t want to think about them anymore. What about you? Talked to Grant yet?”

Beatrice had told Cordelia a few days before that she’d wanted to get the ball rolling on the divorce. “Not yet.”

“Are you all right?”

She flexed her ankles. “Fine.”

“It’s okay.” A tinge of hurt colored Cordelia’s voice. “You don’t have to tell me—”

“No, I actually mean it. I’m fine. I’m hurt and sad, yes.

But at the center of it all, I think I might be relieved.

” It turned even truer as her words hit the night air.

“I had no idea I wanted out, but apparently, I did. I must have, right? Otherwise… I should be more upset, I know. And I am angry at Grant, and at the woman I thought was my friend.” She thought for a moment, testing the weight of her words.

“But the anger is—oh, how do I explain this? It’s the same kind of anger I feel at Dad.

It’s hot but not boiling. Does that make sense? ”

Cordelia nodded slowly.

Scoville. Heat radiated from the tattoo hidden under her long sleeve, and in the dark, she could almost see Naya’s smile.

“Oh, my god, I just remembered. My stepmother Naya had a scale for this—I’d totally forgotten.

The Scoville Anger Scale. You know, like the heat in peppers.

” It had been one of the many things her father and Beatrice had loved about Naya—that she quantified and listed everything, just like they did.

Their household shopping lists alone could have brought peace to warring nations.

“How did it work?”

Leaning back against the wall, Beatrice said, “If I couldn’t find my homework because I put it in the wrong bookbag, that was bell pepper mad.

Jalapeno mad was when I was in high school and forgot to call her to tell her where I was.

Cayenne was getting a D in physics in college because I hated the professor and didn’t withdraw in time.

Ghost pepper was the time she found out I drove home after a party, still buzzed. ”

“Was that the hottest it went?”

Beatrice grimaced. “No, there was always pepper spray. I don’t even know what that would be for, but I bet Dad felt it a couple of times.”

“So your husband cheating on you with your friend feels like…”

“I think it should be somewhere between ghost pepper and pepper spray, but it’s actually a little lower than jalapeno. Maybe sriracha sauce?”

“You could eat it with a spoon, in other words.”

“I’d rather not, but yeah. I could.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good, then. I know your feelings around it are going to be complex, and they might change, but…” Cordelia smiled. “I have to admit, I’m selfishly pleased when people I love are single at the same time I am. Makes going out on Friday nights way more fun.”

People I love.

The band started playing a faster song, and Beatrice’s head whirled like the fastest dancer.

Her sister loved her.

She wanted to say it back—she wanted to grab Cordelia and hug her tight and tell her the same thing. But she couldn’t.

Instead, she said, “I don’t want to die.”

I don’t want to lose you.

Cordelia clasped her hand. “I know.”

“We’re up to five miracles now.”

Her sister didn’t even ask what the miracle was. It didn’t really matter anyway. “Fuck.”

“You know that sealed page in the grimoire? Do you think it could help us?” Every time she opened the ancient book to study, her fingers played with the edges of the wax seal.

Shaking her head, Cordelia said, “The opposite. Don’t do it. Remember that it’s the Velamen power Xenia removed from her twins. It can’t do anything but hurt us.”

She felt seasick as a low swell of fear rolled through her. “You’re the expert in dying. Anything I should know?”

“I…” Cordelia took a deep breath. “No matter what, I won’t let you be alone.”

And it turned out that was enough. For now. It was enough to sit there with her sister in the dark, holding hands.

Beatrice wasn’t alone.

She wouldn’t be alone, no matter what happened.

That was plenty.

A minute or an eternity later, Cordelia stood, brushing off her skirt. “I wish I could hide in here all night with you.”

“I wish you could, too.” Her throat felt thick. “Wait, I have a few more things to tell you about.”

“Oooh, secrets?”

“Maybe. About Minna, and what she wants from her guides. I’m a little worried…”

Cordelia glanced at her phone. “Oh, them. They want the best for her. You think it can wait? I didn’t know it was so late already. The ceremony’s about to start.”

Minna was smart, and she trusted Beatrice. “Sure. It can wait.”

“Hey, have you seen Reno?”

Confused by the subject change, Beatrice stammered, “Not in a while.”

“Huh.” Cordelia’s voice was light. “Maybe you should look for her. She likes to hide the same way you do. You have a lot in common.”