When she turned back to me, her blue eyes were soft and she smiled. “But then you’ll always be my baby, even when you’re forty years old with babies of your own.”

It was a sweet thing to say, but it still hit me squarely in the chest. Aunt Jewel must’ve seen it, because her smile faded. “Oh. Except you can’t have babies, can you? Not if you have to run around protecting David. Doesn’t exactly seem like a child-friendly environment.”

I shook my head, but it wasn’t like I’d thought much about all of that. I’d thought about college, sure, but that was as far as I’d let myself go. Thinking about all the other stuff—marriage, kids, a career—had been too hard. Too scary, too much. I wasn’t proud of the whole head-in-the-sand thing I’d been doing, but I hadn’t known what else to do.

When the buggy stopped this time, it was Aunt Jewel’s fault. She stopped there in front of a row of Chef Boyardee, frowning. “And David is your boyfriend now, but what if you break up? Or find someone else?”

I put a couple of jars of spaghetti sauce into the buggy. “We already broke up,” I told her. “But bringing someone else into this would be a disaster. It was hard enough dealing with Ryan and Mary Beth.” I thought again about Bee locked in Ryan’s arms in the closet, her lip gloss smeared on Ryan’s face. “Not that they’re an issue anymore, I guess.”

I’d told Aunt Jewel about Ryan’s powers, but I’d left out the part with him and Bee. I wasn’t quite ready to get into that just yet.

But now Aunt Jewel was frowning at me, her eyes bright over the tops of her glasses. “How did Ryan even get involved in all this?” she asked. “How did he get... powers or magic or whatever you want to call it?”

“Saylor passed them on to him after Brandon stabbed her,” I answered without thinking.

The box of pasta in Aunt Jewel’s hand tumbled to the floor, the container breaking open and penne spilling everywhere. But she didn’t even seem to see it. “Saylor Stark was murdered?”

Oh. Right.

A stock boy rounded the corner and, seeing the mess, jogged off, probably to get a broom. I scooped Aunt Jewel’s purse up out of the buggy and took her gently by the elbow.

“Maybe we should shop later.”

“Yes,” she said faintly, giving a nod. “M-maybe that’s for the best.”