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wanted to say no, of course. Every sane woman would have said no.
Still, I should have said no. Any sane woman would have—but not me, no…I marched ahead toward my own doom like a witless, grinning fool.
had so little family left that it was important to take care of the few that we had, even if it was thankless. I thought that was sweet but not very smart. “You’ll understand when you get older,” she had said, but I still doubted it.
“They’re not here on vacation, Violet!” I interrupted her sanctimonious speech. “They’re here to make my life a living hell!”
“It’s not stories,” Lily protested. “It’s the truth. You killed those people!” “Yes, but what good do you think the sheriff can do in this unfortunate situation?
“Some people say that children are more attuned to the unknown—more sensitive, if you like. They are newer on Earth and innocent, while we older ladies are noisy inside, full of clutter and sin.”
Violet turned her head and looked straight at me; her eyes were
“Do you think the wicked witches and cruel stepmothers in your storybooks just appeared, like that?” I snapped my fingers. “Do you think they were hatched from witches’ eggs, or sprung from the devil’s brow fully formed? Even women like me, at odds with the world, have a past. We were all girls once—clay to be molded—but not all of us were allowed to grow and flourish as we should.”
“And this one was really happy not to have to vacuum anymore.”
“No,” I replied as I changed lanes. “Crescent Hill is my bubble now. I don’t need to pretend.” Or at least that was how it had been before the girls arrived. “I won’t allow anything that threatens me to stay within its walls.”
In the morning, when I did Aunt Clara’s makeup, I painted her eyebrows crooked on purpose and was sloppy with the lipstick, too. She did look a little weird, but no one but me and Violet knew, and we sniggered about it all morning. It felt so good to laugh again.
She was as quiet as a mouse but slow as molasses, and I had to hold myself back so as not to show her how impatient I was.
“But how are they even going to make it on their own?” I asked, although my greatest worry was for me. How was I going to feed myself? “Selfish,” I muttered. “They have no care for me at all.”
“Maybe,” she admitted. “But I think you’re doing it wrong. You are supposed to protect us, not try to earn any money from us.” “Oh, is that so?” I pretended to be astonished. “I really wish someone would have told me that before! Do you think I’m stupid, Lily?”
“Running away like that.” I shook my head. “You two have to be the most ungrateful, entitled brats in all the world! Leaving me to fend for myself when you know how I cannot even feed myself, and that it’s all because of you! If we’re weighing wrongs, it is you who have made my life a misery!”
But I knew in that moment, without a doubt, that our family would always be special, because once upon a time we had gone to the bottom of the garden and sworn to feed the border guard and work forever in her service, because the lady was important.
“I think so.” Violet shrugged again. “I don’t think Aunt Clara should live anymore.” She licked a little gravy off her fork. “She upsets everything.”
That decided, we finished our stew and started preparing for a séance.
Mr. Woods laughed deep in Violet’s throat, and a little black dirt came tumbling from her lips. “Oh, I will tear her apart. She will bleed and ache like me…I’ll grind her bones to bloody dust—” “Yes, but when?” Dina interrupted him. “Will it be soon, do you think?” The ghost seemed like he hadn’t heard her, but just kept making promises he clearly wasn’t about to keep. “…I’ll carve the heart right out of her chest and eat it with salt…I’ll slit her belly and dance with her intestines—” “That is all fine and good, but when do you expect this to happen?” Dina interrupted again.
“I suggest that you get your hands dirty,” Miss Lawrence replied in her no-nonsense voice. “Only the living can take care of the living.”
I didn’t think a ten-year-old was ever meant to spend so much time with the dead.
