“What were you thinking?” Mom says. Now that she knows I’m alive, she’s gone from worried to angry. No, the look on her face tells me she’s more than angry. Scared. Disappointed. “What if we couldn’t get to you in time?”
“It worked,” I say and look at Alex. “For a moment, it worked.”
My dad sits on the chair beside me. Alex and Rose hover around my bed with guilty looks on their faces.
“You of all people should’ve known better, Alejandra.”
Alex shuts her eyes, prepared to take whatever comes. There’s a green ring around her eye when she takes off her sunglasses. I can see the bruises on her chest, barely covered by her shirt. “Ma—”
“Don’t Ma me right now. All three of you have no idea what forces you’re dealing with. You’ve put a target on this family.”
“Carmen,” my father says. His voice is even and calm. “She just lost him. Let her grieve.”
My mother’s chest rises and falls quickly. Her brown eyes glisten. My mother doesn’t cry. Ever. Now, she blinks the tears back so not a single one falls.
“Don’t tell me about loss, Patricio. I lost you for years.”
We’re silent.
The steady beep of the heart rate monitor reminds us that we’re here, that there is nothing being said for minutes that stretch out, long and painful. Rose trembles and cries silently. Alex frowns at the floor. They hold each other’s hands, and a distance grows between them and me.
I’m so weary all I say is, “Can we go home?”
Before my mother can answer, a new nurse comes in.
“You’re awake,” she tells me, holding up her clipboard to write something. “I’ll check on you in just a minute.”
“The other nurse already checked them,” I tell her.
“What nurse?” Her smooth forehead crinkles.
“The guy,” I say. I try to think of his name but can’t remember if he ever told us. I look to Alex. “We saw him the other night…”
I leave it implied that it was when we were going to Maks’s room.
Alex shakes her head. “I don’t think he told us his name.”
“What did he look like?” the nurse asks, a hand to her hip. Her voice is high-pitched, and I can sense her sudden nervous energy.
I can’t really remember his face, but I can remember the most striking parts about him. “Young. Long ponytail. Tan. He was wearing blue scrubs and dress shoes.”
“Long ponytail?” Now she looks concerned. “I don’t know any male nurse or attending in peeds who looks like that. Give me a minute.”
“What’s going on?” Mom raises her voice.
The nurse starts to leave. But I have to know. Who was he? Was everything he said to me true?
“Wait!”
“I’m sorry,” she says, “but I have to report this right away.”
Then she’s gone, rushing out the door with her sneakers squeaking against the floor. We sit in silence for a little while longer. Mom keeps pacing and muttering prayers. Dad hesitates before placing his hand on top of mine, like he thinks he won’t be welcome. I’m surprised at how foreign it feels, so much so that I almost pull away. Instead, I just lie there and retrace my steps during the canto—the brightness of our magic and the dark that slithered in there. La Muerte breaking through Alex’s barrier. You have betrayed me.
Then, my nurse runs past my room and points down the hall. A trio of security guards rush in the direction she’s pointing. The static of their walkie-talkies alerts others to a potential threat. I pull off my covers, but my mom presses her hand on my shoulder.
The nurse comes back in. Her cheeks are flushed and she places her hands on her heart.
“What happened?” my dad asks.
“Lula,” the nurse says, her voice slow and deep. “I need you to tell me everything that man said to you. Try to remember exactly what he looked like and what he said.”
You’re stronger than this. That’s what he said.
“Why?” I ask. I rip off the tabs that measure my heartbeat to make the beeping stop. “What did he do?”
“He doesn’t work here.” She traces the symbol of the cross over her chest.
“How can he not work here?” Alex asks. “We’ve seen him for days.”
There’s a loud commotion outside my bedroom. Alex goes to the window and pulls open the blinds. Detective Hill runs past with the three security guards from before. More police officers join them.
“Are you saying someone’s been posing as a nurse?” my mom asks protectively.
The nurse is in a daze, like she can’t believe what she’s about to say. “We caught him on security camera entering the morgue. That’s where the cops are going now.”
I feel my heart sink. “What would he want in the morgue?”
Maks.
“The bodies,” she says, trembling. “They’re all missing.”
Part II
The Body
9
Through and through
the passage of time.
Upward and downward,
your love will be mine.
—Witchsong #12, Book of Cantos
This could’ve been a love story.
But Maks is dead and I have to come to terms with everything I’ve done.
I hurt myself. I corrupted my magic. I betrayed my mother’s trust. I made my sisters complicit. I have more questions than answers, more regret than hope, and a pain that might never go away. Yet I’m still alive when others aren’t. The world is upside down, but there’s a twisting, unshakable hurt in my chest that just wants Maks back.
Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe it’s wrong. But I do.
“Lula.” Rose’s voice brings me back to the present. Her eyes glance toward the news. “Do you want me to turn it off?”
I shake my head and try to smile. She hits the mute button anyway.
I should focus on my visitors.
It’s mid-June and two days since I’ve been home. Our summers are usually spent darkening our skin at Coney Island. But I know this summer will be different because I’m different in ways I can’t even explain.
Today would’ve been prom, but it was canceled out of respect for the families of the dead. My dress is hanging in my closet, wrapped in clear plastic from the dry cleaner. I was going to go to Kassandra’s house to get ready, and Paul and Maks were going to pick us up.
At least you’re alive, a voice hisses at me.
I catch a silent tear from the corner of my eye and try to focus on my guests. I can’t climb the stairs every day, so my parents turned the living room into my bedroom. Ma even brought down my altar, but I can’t bring myself to light any of the colorful, new candles the girls have brought for me. A tall, black taper with gold flecks—to banish evil. A cherry-red candle mixed with white rose petals—to mend a broken heart. Simple white ones in tall glass cylinders—a new start.
The brujas from my magic lessons are here to cheer me up, despite the High Circle warning them to stay away. Adrian, whose dad would have a stroke if he knew his son was here, is having his tarot cards read by Rose. Paloma, Emma, and Mayi regale me with gossip about local brujas, but they circle back to me and the accident when the news replays their breaking story.
“That’s the detective that was here earlier, right?” Paloma points at the screen. She sits crossed-legged on the carpet, her slender fingers toying with her straight, raven-black hair. “Is he still asking you questions?”
Emma sighs, pressing her hand to her chest. She’s got her mother’s blue eyes and russet hair. Her Argentine accent is musical, and her voice is as sharp as her features. “You’re so lucky. Imagine if you’d been caught working real magic. At least they just think you were going to—” She can’t say it, so she points at the bandages on my left arm. “Romeo-and-Juliet yourself.”
A dark laugh leaves my lips, and it scares them. “Yeah, at least I’m that lucky.”
“You know you can talk to us,” Mayi says, but her voice is drowned out by Emma.
“I’m just saying.” Emma lifts a shoulder and drops it dramatically. “The High Circle—”
“Can’t touch me,” I say, holding her gaze until she looks away first.
“No.” She picks at a loose thread on the carpet. “But the Knights of Lavant can. My mom says the hunters will look for any excuse to arrest us. The sinmago police haven’t caught that nurse guy, and a bunch of bodies vanished into thin air. How long before they come looking for you?”