Page 100 of Witches of Honeysuckle House

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

Then, she opened the door and stepped into her bedroom at Honeysuckle House.

Chapter Sixty-One

Evie, Now

Once the spilled tea was cleaned up, they got back to work on their plan for the cord-cutting spell. Evie tapped a pen against her mouth as she jotted down notes—Florence’s ideas and her own, combined with input from Angela and Owen. The two of them might not be Caldwell witches, but their knowledge of tarot and crystals helped things along.

“I’m thinking selenite,” Angela said.

“Oh, that’s good,” Florence replied.

“What about the ace of swords?” Owen asked. “You could burn it the same way Regina used the magician and temperance cards.”

“It represents the start of a new journey,” Florence said. “One focused on truth instead of the deception of the seven.”

Despite everything that had brought them to that moment, Evie found a soft sort of joy had come alight in her heart. For the first time in years, she and her sister were working on a spell together—Angela and Owen right along with them. This was the sort of future she’d imagined for herself when she was younger, before her mother died and everything went so wrong between her and Florence. She let that warmth fill her, let it block out the reality of what the spell meant. Honeysuckle House had been in her life longer even than her sister. It was the family she held onto when Florence turned her back on theCaldwell magic. If Evie let herself dwell on the thought of losing it, she’d never have the strength to finish the spell.

“Can someone hand me Mom’s list?” Evie asked. “I want to make sure we don’t use any of the crystals she did.”

Owen rifled through the journals. After a few moments, he looked up. “It’s not here.”

“Do you have it, Florence?” Evie grew impatient as the impending loss set in.

“I put it on the table before I started reading Aunt Violet’s journal,” Florence said.

Angela looked around the room. “Clara’s not here, either.”

Evie’s head shot up. Clara had been sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the table only ten minutes ago, before the kitten made a mess of things.

“Ink’s missing, too,” Florence said. “Maybe they got bored and went to play in the shop.”

But Evie’s eyes met Angela’s, and she saw the same fear there that she felt in her own heart. Honeysuckle House wasn’t only Evie’s family, it was Clara’s, too. It had played the part of older sister and grandmother and friend, and though Evie knew the cord cutting had to be done, Clara might not see things the same way.

“You don’t think …” Angela trailed off.

“Oh no,” Evie said. Then again, “Oh no.” She jumped up from her spot on the couch. “We have to stop her.”

Florence, too, stood. She gripped Evie by the shoulders. “I’m sure she’s fine. We’ll ask the shop where to find her, then get back to work.”

“You don’t understand,” Evie said. “Clara’s been so worried about the house. She took Mom’s spell. She’s going to try to save it.”

Her sister stiffened. Her grip on Evie tightened. “And Ink …”

“She plans to use him as the offering,” Angela whispered.

Evie ran for the door and threw it open. “Clara!” she called.

But there was no answer.

The main lights flickered on, and Florence came to stand beside Evie in the doorway. “Show us where she is,” Florence said.

Nothing in the room changed.

“She’s gone.” Evie imagined her seven-year-old daughter walking along Burdock Creek’s main thoroughfare after midnight during a storm.

“She can’t have gotten far,” Florence said. “We should be able to catch her.”