I can feel my grandmother frown at her gesture, so I frown too. It all makes me a little woozy. “Thanks? I don’t understand, though. Why didn’t I find out I was a Medium when I was a kid?”

“Perhaps it’s the Bloodcraft, and the original nature of that spell. You’d have to speak to an ancestor who knows and, as your mother said, you’ll need to go back further than your grandmother.” Patricia hums speculatively. “Your mother practiced Wildcraft, which is a different branch. Different power. As a Medium, your power is wound tightly with death, and as your family’s Bloodcraft is triggered by death, perhaps the two branches intertwined in you until they became tied together in unpredictable ways. I’m afraid I’m not certain.”

Mariah cocks her head to the side. “But why didn’t both of your branches manifest when your mom died?”

The answer appears in my mind before I even finish the question. “That’s my fault.” I see the truth of it in my mind’s eye. “That night at the hospital was the birth of… this version of myself that I named After-Bree. The…” I look to Patricia, and she nods for me to continue. “The trauma created her, but I spent all of my energy containing her.”

Patricia nods. “Sometimes our brains protect us until we’re ready. The most important thing is now you know. And right now, you have help from Mrs.…?”

“Charles,” I say instantly. The name sprung into my mouth like it had been launched there.

“Mrs. Charles. So nice to meet you,” Patricia says warmly, her accent slipping in slow like molasses. “Will you be stayin’ long?”

“No,” I reply. “She’s just here to act as a lighthouse.” I pause and try to turn my vision inward to ask a question. “A lighthouse?” I hear an answer. “Oh, a signpost for an older mother. She’ll pass the request on to the ancestor who can show me how to control my power, and where it came from. All she can do is ask. I will have to wait for the answer. It may take a while.”

Patricia bows her head. “I understand. Very generous of her. Thank you, Mrs. Charles.”

I take another two steps, and the sloshing feeling gets worse. “Jesus, Grandma. Can you get, like, more dense?”

Somehow, she slaps me in the face. I blink, chin twisted over my shoulder. “Ow!”

‘That’s for taking the Lord’s name in vain!’

“Wow.” I stare at Mariah. “Did you know your ass can get called out from the grave?”

“Girl, yes.” Mariah nods in sympathy. “Happens to me all the time. The worst, right?”

I nod. “I’m just…” I stumble slightly, hands out for balance. “I need her to calm down or something. I’ll never make it home like this.”