Page 80 of Witches of Honeysuckle House

The closest Violet had ever come to having words with her sister was that day in the workshop when Violet announced Tillie was moving in. It had come from a place of fear—that Regina wouldn’t accept her, that she wouldn’t understand. Now, that fear was gone. Anger had taken up its spot, and with every thought and every breath, it grew.

She pulled the Pontiac in front of Honeysuckle House and killed the engine.

Tillie reached for her hand. “Are you sure about this?”

Violet nodded; she’d never been so sure of anything in her life. She stepped out of the car and looked up at the house. “Where is she?”

The front door opened wide in response.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Tillie asked.

Violet shook her head. “I need to do this on my own.”

Tillie leaned her head against Violet’s shoulder and took her hand. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“But I do,” Violet said. “And when I’m done, I’m all yours.”

Tillie stood up on her toes and pressed her lips to Violet’s cheek.

Violet turned her head, catching Tillie’s mouth with her own. Tillie made a surprised sound but returned the kiss.

“For good luck,” Violet said.

Together, they started up the stairs. When they stepped inside, Tillie squeezed Violet’s hand before they parted ways. As Tillie started for their room, Violet asked the house, “Where is Regina?”

The chandelier winked on, and the front staircase creaked. Up the stairs, the hallway lights led her to Regina’s room, where the door swung open silently. Violet found her sister in the attic loft, sitting in her armchair and scribbling away in her journal. Violet stood there for a few moments watching her. Violet had given up so much of her life to become the parent Regina needed. All she had ever wanted was her sister’s happiness, and it broke her heart to realize Regina didn’t want the same for her.

“Regina,” Violet said.

Her sister looked up, dazed. She closed the book and set it to the side.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” Regina’s voice sounded like an accusation, and the way she glanced at the wall confirmed it. Whatever she’d been doing up here, the house had wanted Violet to see it. She glanced at Regina’s altar. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary—a pile of crystals, her new deck of tarot cards, a stack of candles in the corner with a single black taper on top.

“Joshua told me what you did,” Violet said.

Regina’s nostrils flared, but her voice came out calm and flat. “I told him I was worried about your safety.”

Violet crossed her arms. “That’s not the way he tells it.”

“And you trust him over me?”

“You threatened his sister,” Violet said. “You threatened me.”

“I would never do anything to hurt you,” Regina said.

“That’s just it.” Violet’s voice cracked. “You already have. I love Tillie. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, and you want to tear us apart.”

Already Regina was shaking her head. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Violet said. “But if you keep going like this, you will.”

“You’re the one who cast spells to stop my magic!”

Regina’s words landed like a blow. Violet had dipped and lit those candles out of an abundance of caution. She’d wanted them to be unnecessary, a defense born of paranoia.

“Youwerecasting spells on me.” Betrayal and disappointment filled Violet’s voice.

Regina’s eyes widened. “I …”