“Because . . . otherwise me taking this spell is charity. And I don’t need your pity.”
That wasn’t the only reason, of course—there was the fact that she’d probably die if I didn’t help her, and the fact that I owed her doubly for this because I’d stolen Win’s money, and the fact that I liked her, despite myself. She’d kept Cal’s secret, she’d tried to blackmail me, but she’d also tried to help, even though she had no reason to. Plus she cared about Win and I used to care about Win, so she must have had good taste.
She looked at me for a long moment. For a second we didn’t worry about Cal out in the store or Diana in the cage or Markos still knocked out on the floor. She smiled, tentative as if I might change my mind. “It’ll work. You’ll be beautiful.”
I pulled open the seal on the plastic bag and several things happened at once.
Kay pushed Echo into a stack of buckets and tackled me to the ground, grabbing the bag from my hand.
Just as the shelf behind me—right where I had been standing—creaked and toppled over, sending a pile of PVC pipes clattering to the floor.
When the pipes stopped rolling, I pushed Kay off me. Echo groaned and sat up. “What the hell?”
Kay spoke frantically, words tumbling over each other. Though she wasn’t whispering I had to lean in close and concentrate extra hard in order to make out the words. “I figured it out. There’s got to be a spell. Echo’s spell. I mean the spell affecting Echo. A hook!” Kay flapped her arms in frustration. “Remember when you and Diana tried to leave me at the bonfire, and Diana busted her face?”
“Your hook’s balanced out now,” Echo said.
“And thanks so much for that,” Kay said, bitterness souring the words. “But I’m not talking about me. I think there’s a spell affecting Echo. A hook. One that her mom gave her, probably years and years ago. Think about it—that’s why Echo can’t seem to get anyone to pay her for their spells, why she doesn’t just leave. It’s exactly like my spell—it keeps her close to her mom.”
Echo frowned. “My mom wouldn’t do that.”
“But Echo—all your bad luck,” I said. “What if it’s not luck?”
Echo kicked a piece of pipe and it rolled away. “She wouldn’t. Hekamists don’t spell other hekamists.”
“You give your mom spells for her pain,” I said.
“That’s different. That’s for her own good.” Echo’s eyes widened when she heard her words out loud.
“She would’ve thought she was protecting you,” Kay said.
“Keeping you from being discovered and going to jail,” I added.
“Watching over you. Because she cares about you.” Kay sounded defensive.
“Wait—hold on,” I said. “All I did was offer you our couch in New York if the spell works, and the shelf fell down on us. So if someone tries to help you, or gives you a way out . . .” I stopped, looking at the plastic bag in Kay’s hand.
A little thing—the thing that would let me dance again and go to New York as planned. I wasn’t attached to Kay’s hook anymore, so that wouldn’t keep me in Cape Cod.
And if I left, Echo could leave, too.
She’d been close to leaving once before. She’d told me she was waiting for Win to pay her the night that he died.
I leaned across the fallen pipes and grabbed Echo’s arm. “Echo—Win owed you money, right?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh.” Her chin shook, which made her look ten years younger. “Win was on his way to bring me the money when he crashed.”
“If you had his money, you could go,” Kay said.
“So if there was a hook on me . . . Win . . .” She hugged her arms close to her chest, as if to keep her heart inside her body.
“It could be a coincidence,” I pointed out.
“That’s how hooks work,” Kay said. “With coincidences and luck and chance. Your mom told me that when I got mine.”
“Oh god.” Echo took a deep, shuddering breath. “I killed him.”
We’d never know. Not for sure. No one was there with him in the truck; no hekamist could do a forensic analysis and tell us the truth. But it felt true, like how Cal setting the fire at my house felt true, like how Kay’s hook explained so much about my friendship with her.
“Everything I’ve done has backfired,” Echo said. She stared at her hands and spoke in a monotone. “Every spell I’ve ever done has made things worse.”
I knew that feeling. I was about to tell her it wasn’t her fault, and that I had made plenty of the terrible decisions that brought us here, too, but we heard sirens in the distance, and Kay grabbed our arms.
“They’re not going to be able to find us back here,” Kay said.
She started for the woodshop’s door, my spell still clutched in her hand. I was still trying to decide if I should follow her or stay with Diana and Markos when she stopped suddenly and backed up, stumbling over fallen PVC pipes.
Cal walked in after her.