In that moment, she and I understood each other for the first time. We both understood that I had leverage.

“You really do need this, don’t you? Or at least you think you do.”

“Yes, I do need it.”

“Then tell me where you get it from, and I’ll leave you the last bit.”

“You already know. I get it from a friend in Florida.”

“Who?”

“No one you know.” As she made her curt replies, she was watching me intently. Even in her fear, she was curious. She was expecting something, but what? What could the stuff possibly do to me? My stomach was sloshing and queasy, and burned in a place or two where the liquid rolled against it, but I did not feel any different.

Not better, not . . . worse.

“Satisfy my curiosity.” My voice came louder than I meant for it to. “Who lives in Highlands Hammock?”

She balked, or stalled. God. We were related. We used all the same tricks. I wondered if I was so transparent when I tried to manipulate people. Surely not, or I’d never have gotten anywhere in life. “No one lives there. It’s just a swamp. It’s a park. Nobody could live there, even if they wanted to.”

“Maybe it’s an alligator that sends you this medicine, then. Or a musk . . . rat.” I wanted to be cocky, but it was coming out wrong. I almost giggled. “A muskrat. I don’t even know what one looks like. They’re something like possums, I bet, but they live where it’s wet. I guess. I don’t know . . . .” I let it trail off.

With one hand, I reached behind me and pulled out one of the dining room chairs. I meant to take it casually, but instead I dropped onto it like a stone. My legs were going numb, and after them my arms and hands.

“Eden? Eden?” I dimly saw Harry rush to my side and take the bottle from my hand, but I didn’t feel his touch on my shoulder or the pressure of his fingers moving mine. I only saw Eliza’s wicked blue eyes, though they were not regarding me with triumph. They were still sad, and a touch angry.

“What . . . is . . . this?” My tongue felt like Silly Putty. I couldn’t maneuver it around my palate. I was weakening by the moment; but I desperately assured myself that I must not be dying, or else Eliza would be laughing some horrid laugh. My fright forced the words together faster when I repeated them a second time. “What is this?”

Surely I was right. I could not be dying, for in those frigid eyes I saw only resentment when she replied. “My magic.”

And then the room went dark.

Completely black.