To my surprise, Mom actually seemed to agree. “Well, we could stay at the Waukechon Inn in Ortonville. I guess one night wouldn’t break the bank. But I hate the idea of being so far from the house. You know, the police said they’d post someone there overnight to keep people off our property, but I just don’t know.”

She was playing directly into my hand, which made me feel both good and guilty. “Mom, why don’t you spend the night at the Emorys’ so that you can keep an eye on things, and I’ll just sleep over at Cheryl’s?” I proposed. Then, to really drive home my point, I added, “You know you won’t sleep at all tonight if you’re worried about the house, and Glenn’s going to want to see you first thing in the morning.”

Mom yawned unexpectedly and said, “You’re right. That’s an excellent plan.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug. “What would I do without you?”

I tried my best to banish negative thoughts from my mind and to instead appreciate her sentiment. But the nightmare of this day was my fault. There were a million things I could have done differently to avoid ending up in the hospital waiting room that night, ranging from declining the invitation to Olivia’s birthday party to refusing to fly back to Willow to attend Mischa’s parents’ wake. Since I’d first suspected that Violet was to blame for Olivia’s death, I had foolishly believed that I could get to the bottom of the curse and protect Candace and Mischa. But now I was realizing that belief had been narcissistic. It might not be possible to save everyone, including myself, and I regretted not choosing more carefully whose lives I wanted to protect most.

Mom left me in the waiting room to visit Glenn, and I fought the urge to ask her to take the stairs instead of the elevator for her own safety, since Mischa was probably still somewhere in the building. I hoped with all my might that spending the night apart from Mom would serve to protect rather than endanger her.

CHAPTER 13

IT WAS PURE LUCK THAT Mom pulled into Cheryl’s driveway, idled until I reached the Guthries’ front steps, and then drove away. It would have been awkward if she’d lingered until I rang the front doorbell or worse, until someone answered the door, since I hadn’t called Cheryl in advance. But I had other plans.

From the Guthries’ driveway, I could hear the television in their living room. I already knew what a cozy night at Cheryl’s typically entailed: a movie on TV, buttery popcorn, and a highly competitive round of Trivial Pursuit with her family. My heart yearned for the days when I was a frequent participant in nights like that, but a quick glance up at the moon overhead in the night sky—it was just about half-full—was a sharp reminder that I had no choice but to keep moving.