“She would have cut off their toes and fried them up like shrimp if I’d let her. Well, maybe not really.” Izzy frowned at me. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how true they were. No, there was nothing much funny about this situation at all. “Let’s go inside.”

• • •

The rest of the day was quiet. Beatty called to say the mallet had gone to forensics and he was looking into lawyers for us. On top of the fact that he did not specialize in—stars help us—criminal law, he was worried about potential conflicts of interest given that he was Constance’s lawyer too. Nora spent the day in her room, Izzy in the kitchen, and I just hung out on the main floor, not quite sure what to do with myself. Things were obviously not going in the direction we had hoped. I needed to do something, but the question was, what? I had to talk to Constance’s siblings, but that might be easier said than done, given the rumors that had to be flying through town. It was unlikely anyone in Constance’s family would want to talk to anyone from ours now.

So, until I figured out how best to approach that situation, I was left with only one other option.

The one I had been trying so hard to avoid.

After Nora had stormed off, the guilt had set in, and I couldn’t help but think she was right about my role in this. Just because I hadn’t been able to see a ghost since Adam had passed, that wasn’t an excuse not to try. Nora was in trouble. We were all in trouble. And I needed to do everything in my power to try to get us out of it.

I could hear pots clanging and cupboards slamming open and shut in the kitchen. Izzy was cooking up a storm, by the sound of it, so it was the perfect time to slip upstairs without her noticing. And given Nora wasn’t exactly speaking to us, I had little concern she would check up on me.

I clenched my hands into fists and I headed up the stairs.

It was strange to feel so nervous about doing something that had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. Even when I was little, I had been able to see people who had passed. My tea parties had been quite well attended back then, and I was never at a loss to find someone to play checkers with even if I did have to move all the pieces myself.

I had always felt blessed to have been born with the gift even knowing that it meant I would never be able to speak to my own departed loved ones.

That’s right. You could say it was the one caveat to the power.

The witching community believed that particular little twist was a sort of failsafe to protect the mental well-being of the witches of the other side. How could you possibly move on with your life if you could see and talk to your loved ones like nothing had happened? And perhaps even more importantly, there would be nothing strong enough to compel the departed to step into the light. It had always made sense to me, and I had simply accepted it as fact. But facts have a way of providing cold comfort when you’re the one experiencing loss.