But we never considered that Father Fahey had instructed her on how to do it.

“What was happening in February, seventeen years ago?” Trey wondered aloud.

“It was two months before I was born,” Violet informed us. “My mom had been diagnosed with preeclampsia and put on bed rest right around that time, at least that’s what she told me. If my grandmother was afraid that my mom was going to lose me, then it makes sense that she would have cast the spell then.”

She shook her head slowly at the piece of paper and asked the question on all of our minds. “Why would a priest at St. Monica’s have written these directions down for her?”

CHAPTER 14

THE FRONT DOORS OF ST. MONICA’S were locked, which wasn’t surprising considering that it was after ten o’clock on a Sunday night.

“Great,” I muttered, pulling on the handle of the front door despite already being aware of the futility. I was so tired I could barely see straight, I reeked of smoke, and now we were standing outside a locked church late at night in the freezing cold. A lump formed in my throat. Becoming emotional wasn’t going to improve my circumstances at all, but the idea of just going back to Florida and simply hoping I wouldn’t die in the next ten days was starting to hold an undeniable appeal.

“I’ve got an idea,” Trey announced, and without waiting for either Violet or me to reply, he hopped down the cement stairs and followed the path that wrapped around the side of the church.

Violet frowned at me. “I’m not breaking into a church on Easter Sunday.”

I shared her sentiment. I’d done enough breaking in, snooping, and sneaking around for a lifetime. But we needed to get our hands on something in particular before we did anything else, and I was too exhausted to think of any other place in town where we might find an object that would meet the criteria. So I trudged down the stairs after Trey, and Violet begrudgingly followed me, huffing and puffing with each step.

We found him holding open a side door, through which a wedge of pale light spilled onto the path. “I had a feeling this wouldn’t be locked,” he told us. As Violet and I entered, we realized that we had stepped into the small chapel off to the left side of the altar. Although Mom and I hadn’t made a regular habit of going to church for many years, I vaguely remembered this side chapel was where baptisms were usually held. Dim overhead lights had been left on inside the church, which was fortunate, since I had no energy for poking around in cold, dark places filled with objects of religious significance at that hour. A surprisingly sweet and floral scent tickled my senses, and I noticed Easter lilies lining the center aisle of the nave.

“How did you know there was a side door?” Violet asked Trey.