Adam’s funeral.

The words were wrong. They shouldn’t be said.

Nora took another step toward me. I instinctively backed away. “Don’t you remember the joy you used to feel when you used your gift? You brought peace to so many people in pain.”

“And what about my pain?” I snapped. “What about that?”

She didn’t answer.

“You want me to share my feelings? You want me to talk about it? Here it is. I’m the one who has always been with ghosts. I’m the one who has always passed on their final messages to their loved ones. And yet, I’m the one who doesn’t get to know what his final words would have been? Tell me, how is that fair?”

My aunts stared at me, mirrored expressions of pain on their faces.

“Here’s some more truth for you. I hate my magic. It abandoned me that day when Adam lay dying on the grass, and it abandoned me afterward when I still had a chance to hear from him one last time.”

“Darling,” Izzy said, reaching for me again.

“No, I’m done.” I scissored my hands. “Nora, I will move mountains to help you prove your innocence, but don’t ask me about my magic again. It is not your choice. Accept it.”

“Brynn,” Izzy said, “this isn’t right.”

I turned and headed for the door.

“Don’t you dare walk away from us, young lady,” Nora shouted after me. “We are not done talking about this.”

I was done though. I grabbed the handle and tried to twist it. It didn’t budge.

“Nora,” I warned. “Knock it off.”

I heard some muttering from behind me that sounded like, You undo the spell if you don’t like it.

I tried the knob again.

Still frozen.

“Nora!”

“All right! But this isn’t over. I know you’re in pain, but this is not the way to deal with it.”

I yanked the door open and stumbled through the threshold. I only made it halfway to the house when a lightning bolt cracked directly over my head. I whirled around and gave Nora, who was leaning against the doorframe of the greenhouse, a ferocious look.

“Oh, that wasn’t me,” she said, planting a hand delicately on her chest. “If I had to guess that was all you, Miss I’m-Not-a-Witch-Anymore. You think you can simply stop being who you are? It’s not that easy, Niece. Your magic doesn’t just die. It fights to live. But I suspect at some level you already know that.”

I pressed my lips shut.

“If I had to guess, you’ve already had some experience with your powers going rogue.”

Suddenly I could see the broken concrete in front of Theo’s shop. And the dog treats that had appeared in my basket.

“It’s going to keep happening, you know. At first, your magic may try to win you over, by giving you a helping hand here and there, but eventually it will get annoyed. And its behavior will get worse. Especially when you’re upset.”