She chose new clothes from her wardrobe and used a thick elastic to tie her hair back into a bun. In the hazy wardrobe mirror, her scars looked like lightning against her darker skin. She covered them with a knit sweater.

Then she returned downstairs. Her sneakers were in the living room. She’d left them there after the bells rang, which meant they’d stayed relatively clean. She pulled them on, then retrieved the cloth Kant had given her for the cast.

The triangle was awkward to tie one-handed, but she managed it, taking some pressure off her shoulder. She crossed to the kitchen, where she found the first aid kit and wrapped gauze around the cuts on the back of her other forearm. She ate cereal out of the box and stared through the window. Heavy clouds made the space feel cold, robbed of its colors.

Still, the question wouldn’t leave her. What now?

Now, she supposed, assuming the worst of it was over, she would have to learn to adapt. Begin cleaning up the mess. Learn how to live her life at Gallows Hill. The others had promised her it wouldn’t be so bad.

Everyone keeps saying this is the worst the curse has ever been. There must be a reason for that, surely. Something that provoked it. Is it because I moved in? Does it get worse when the ownership changes?

No, she thought. Her presence wasn’t a catalyst. It had been bad before she’d even arrived. Bad enough to claim her parents.

Then, what? Kant didn’t say anything had changed. From what I can gather, the business has been running the same way it always has. The same routines, the same habits. Even down to using lanterns in the tunnels.

She wished she’d been able to ask her parents about it. Kant, Nora, Ray, and Andrew had tried to step in, to coach her through how everything worked, but they’d admitted they knew relatively little about the curse compared to her parents.

The curse. And the blessing. Because there are two sides to it, aren’t there?

Margot lifted her head to look at the house around her. The Hulls had prospered. More than they had any right to on a windswept hill and with disaster nipping at their heels. She had to think that wasn’t coincidental. The curse and the prosperity were tied together: two sides to a coin.

So…what now?

She could make a life here for herself, just like her forebearers had. Lock the doors and cover the windows during the bad bits. Order in groceries. Make friends with the people who worked there.

Her parents had done it. From what she’d heard, they’d managed to be happy a lot of the time.

And then?

She would try to make the best life she could.

She didn’t have a choice.

Even in death, the hill wouldn’t release her.