“Then take me! Kill me!” Her sobs drowned her words.
My heart ached for Madelyn. I wished desperately I wasn’t so terrified of my parents. Maybe if I was stronger, I would—
“I can’t kill you,” my father said. “Not after accusing us of such ugly things. It would appear suspicious. But a suicidal daughter of a deranged mother—well, now, that only proves our case.”
In what I can only imagine was an act of desperation, Madelyn sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. “But, Sir, if you kill her, then what will stop me from telling the whole world what you’ve done?”
It was at this moment my mother finally decided to speak. Keeping her eyes fixed on the jasmine, she said, “You have two boys at home, correct?”
Madelyn’s head jerked toward the cool voice. “You stay away—”
“Erik, dear,” my mother said, rising up like a ghost from its grave. “I’m bored. Are we about finished?”
He inhaled deeply, nostrils wide. “These things take time, dear.”
My mother returned his venomous glare. “Actually, they don’t.” With a flick of her wrist, the rope tightened and cut into the girl’s flesh. Her body convulsed for several seconds until blood pulsed from the wound, covering her in a blanket of red.
I cried out, but quickly covered my mouth; my terror was masked by Madelyn’s relentless screaming.
They killed her. They actually did it.
And in that moment, when the forest swallowed a young girl’s soul, hatred for my parents seared my heart.
I remained hidden while my mother returned home and my father oversaw the pitiful efforts of Madelyn calling the police to tell them that she had found her daughter dead in the woods. A suicide hanging. When my father finally passed below me, I held my breath. I didn’t want to inhale any part of his evil wake. This terrible power was what corrupted everything around him, and I wanted no part of it.
I waited until I could no longer see him before I moved. Under my breath, I whispered a command. The great branch of the tree lowered, taking me with it. When it bent as far as it could, I leapt to the ground. For most people, the fall would’ve injured them, but when I said, “Extendam,” the ground stretched and lowered, softening my impact. Once the earth returned to its natural state, I walked away.
This would be the last time I would ever use magic, I vowed. My parents had been trying to get me to use it for as long as I could remember, but now I knew why I had kept my abilities a secret. Deep down, I must’ve known how my powers would change me—turn me into heartless monsters like them.
But not now.
Not ever.
I would rather die than be like them. From that day forward, I was no longer a witch.
Chapter 2
A splash of cold water hit me in the face. The shock of it forced me awake, and I gasped for air.
“You shouldn’t sleep in, Eve,” said Jane, my tutor and sometimes an unwilling maid. She held an empty glass in her hand.
I moaned and pulled the covers over my head, already wishing the day away. Tonight, Erik and Sable, my father and mother (though I’d never call them that again after what I’d witnessed in the forest several weeks ago), were hosting an early All Hallows Eve ball to try and raise more money for their political favorites. It was also my eighteenth birthday, but like my other birthdays, it would go unnoticed.
“Why are you here so early?” I asked from beneath the covers.
It was a Saturday, and Jane only showed up on weekdays to tutor me. I wish I went to an actual college, having obtained my high school diploma almost a year ago, but my parents said that was only for good kids who did what their parents wanted. And since I wouldn’t use magic, I was never able to attend any type of public school.
“As if I had a choice,” she said. “Your parents wanted me here early to help you get ready, so get up so I can get out of this hell.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled and sat up. I was painfully aware of how much she and everyone else who worked for my parents hated the employment, but either the pay was too good to pass up, or they were too afraid to quit. Jane had been working for us for almost ten years. She was almost old enough to retire. “I can dress myself.”
“Not according to your mother.” She jerked the covers from my lap. “Hurry. You don’t want to make her angry.”
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, cringing when my bare feet touched the marbled floor. “Is she ever anything else?”
“Yes—terrifying.” Jane fumbled through my closet, her wide backside knocking several of my schoolbooks off a chair. She handed me a black slip. “Put this on. Your mother is coming.”
“Why?”
Jane’s pudgy fingers wiped sweat from her forehead. Her brown hair was pulled into a bun; parts of it were already falling loose. “She wants to make sure you look your best. Now hurry!”