I glanced up and saw mirror fragments embedded in the opposite wall—some were buried all the way into the plaster. Lark wouldn’t have just been wounded, she would have been killed.
“What the hell, Wren?” Lark gasped, clutching me as tightly as I clung to her. She had glass dust and shards in her hair and on her shoulders, and a tiny cut on her cheek, but other than that, she looked unharmed. She stared at me for a moment.
“What?” I asked.
“Turn around.”
I did as she asked. Lark gasped.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw what made her go so pale.
Shards of glass stuck out of my back like reflective spines.
“Do they hurt?”
“I don’t feel them at all.” That was interesting. I moved a little closer to the sink so my back was to the vanity, and willed myself to my usual form. The glass fell away as I lost tangibility and clinked against the porcelain. I could actually see myself in them—little fractured pieces of myself.
“What just happened?” Lark asked. “Who grabbed her?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, my jaw clenched. “But I’m going to find out.” Because whoever or whatever it was, it had tried to hurt my sister, and as far as I was concerned, that meant war.
LARK
I was late to school. There was no way I could leave the bathroom in that state, and it took forever to clean up the glass—it was in my robe, in my hair, in the canister for my makeup brushes, on my towels. It even created a sharp powder that dusted the top of the toilet bowl.
Wren was able to generate enough of a breeze to knock all the fragments and dust—even the ones on me—to the floor so I could vacuum it up.
Nan came up to see what was taking me so long. She took one look at the shattered mirror, and at the little cut on my face, and went pale. “What happened? I heard a noise.”
“The mirror broke,” I said—as if that weren’t obvious. “Sorry, Nan. I’ll replace it.” And just how the heck I was going to do that was a mystery. I didn’t even have a part-time job.
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about that, dear. Are you girls okay?” She was looking at Wren.
“We’re good,” I replied.
She was still looking at Wren. “It’s like looking at a reflection in a window. I can see you, Wrenleigh, but not clearly.”
Wren waved, smiling happily. We had just been attacked, and she was grinning. Okay, so that was a little annoying, but whatever. If my twin was okay, then I could be okay. What had happened was freaking scary, but we’d survived. Or rather, I had survived. Survival was sort of moot with Wren.
I texted Ben to tell him not to pick me up. So much for being worried about him seeing Mace here. Mace was the least of my worries. Something seriously effed up was going on with Emily and Alys—something I didn’t know if Wren and I could handle. I was scared—not that I would admit that to anyone else.
“Nan,” I said, “could you call the school and let them know I’m going to miss first period, please?”
“Of course. Come down when you’re ready.” She cast another worried glance in my direction. “You know, you don’t have to go to school at all. Is it safer for you here?”
“I have no idea,” I replied, honestly. “Nan, there’s something going on with Emily and Alys, and I don’t know what it is.”
“What can I do to help?”
She was so freaking awesome. I went to the desk and opened the bottom drawer. Emily’s journal was there. I’d read through most of it when we’d tangled with Bent, but truth be told, I’d forgotten most of it, too. “Can you look through this and mark any references to Haven Crest? Or people and ghosts who caused trouble? I can’t explain it, but this feels personal.”
“Of course.” She took the book from me.
“Thanks.”
“How did the mirror break?” she asked, holding the journal to her chest.
“Emily,” I replied. I mean, it wasn’t a lie, but it was all the truth she needed to know at that moment.
Her gaze held mine for a long moment. Just long enough for me to start squirming.
“You girls know I’m here for you, don’t you? Not just to feed you and put a roof over your head, but to protect and help you, however I can.”
She was such an awesome grandmother. My mother would have flipped out over the mirror and not have cared why it happened. And she wouldn’t have believed me that it had been broken by a ghost.
“Have you ever seen Emily or Alys here?” I asked.
“My grandmother and her sister? Oh, I don’t...” She frowned. “Yes. Actually, I have seen one of them, I think. My grandfather built this house shortly after my mother was born. My grandmother lived here until the day she died.”
“How did she die?” I asked. I was half-afraid to ask.
Nan smiled. “She was ninety-six and died in her sleep.” Something flickered in her eyes, and her smile faded.