missed you so much. It was painful for me to be kept away from you for so long.” Her eyes glistened with tears.
The show she was putting on did nothing but harden me even more against
her.
“You need to leave!” I shouted. Anger that I had never felt before boiled inside me. “You’re not welcome here anymore!”
Eliza's eyes widened in surprise at my reaction. I thought she was going to slap me when her eyes narrowed.
“I shouldn't be surprised to find my daughter turned against me by you."
I turned to see Gram coming down the loft ladder.
“Enough of this nonsense. Pack a bag for you and your sister, Marina. I will
explain everything once we are home.” Eliza turned back to me with a look of
hurt. “I have so much to tell you.”
My heart ached. I wanted to fall into my mother's arms and ask her to come
home…beg her to love me again.
“You will not be taking these girls anywhere. Mara was right in saying you
aren't welcome in this home anymore.” Gram stepped forward and blew small
flowers into the air. The smell of lavender and cinnamon engulfed the room.
The flowers turned into white smoke tendrils that surrounded my mother.
Shock filled her eyes as the small strings bound her arms and began to circle around her neck. Eliza turned from the room, grabbing and pulling at the tendrils
attaching to her.
Quickly, opening the front door, she exited and turned to say, “You cannot keep them from me, Mother. They are mine.”
Gram held her hand out in front of her, causing a warm wind to blow through
the room and slam the door shut.
"No, Eliza," my grandmother corrected. "They are mine."
No one spoke for minutes. When my eyes caught Cole's, I could see the sadness
that filled them. He knew how much I had missed my mother. He understood
how desperately I wanted everything to go back to the way it was before she disappeared.
Closing my eyes, I breathed in the lavender that scented the air and tried to calm my heart. I could feel gentle patting on my hand. When I looked down, I
saw the tendrils of smoke that had chased my mother away. The smoke was
warm, and it felt like the soft touch of my grandmother's hand, comforting me. I
closed my eyes again and let myself be reassured.
“Cole, go home and pack some of your things. You're staying here for a few
days,” Gram ordered.
Cole began to protest. “Gram, I don't need protection. I will be…” His voice
trailed off as he saw the serious look in my grandmother's eyes.
She walked to the fire and grabbed the iron poker. With wide eyes, Cole
watched, waiting for her next move. The white and gray stone of the fireplace shimmered as if millions of little stars were buried in the material.
Gram held the poker high in the air, making tiny circles. Her circles turned
into silver chains that began to twist and turn in the air around us. Even when she put the poker down, the tendrils continued to weave themselves into small circles. Abruptly, the rings dove at Cole.
"I said I was going," he cried out.
Cole lifted his hands to stop the attack. Instead of striking him, the silver slowed and wrapped his wrist. Twisting and twisting, it formed the most elegant
