“What? Are you kidding?”

“Didn’t want to freak you out,” I told him. Trying to make it sound like not a big deal, I told him about the candles Kirsten had instructed me to burn every morning.

I must have failed in making the entire situation seem like nothing but a precaution, because Henry’s response was an explosion of fury. “How long have you known that we didn’t break the curse? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’m going to fly home tomorrow and wring that little witch’s neck!”

It took me a few minutes to calm him down, and I had to swear up and down that I was sure Violet didn’t have any power over the situation anymore. Perhaps it was a little bit of a lie to tell him that I was still figuring out what had happened, but I was honest enough to tell him that I thought there was the tiniest possibility that the curse had shifted to Mischa. I was still nervous he was going to hop on a flight to Wisconsin, but I had to get off the phone so that I could light my candles.

I set up my candles, poured my salt, lit the wicks, and uttered my chant with total sincerity, sensing that it had never been more important to complete the spell with attention to detail. Once at school, I endured my classes in a distracted daze. I kept reminding myself that technically nothing had changed since the day before. Mischa and I were in the same situation we had been in since January, only perhaps with slightly higher stakes because three new moons had passed. There was no reason for me to feel like I was walking along the edge of a cliff. Everything was still under control. But by the time the bell rang to signal the end of chemistry, my last class of the day, I had already thrown my bag of books over my shoulder and rocketed out of my seat, eager to put all of my focus back into getting the curse off of Mischa. Even though it made me feel like a complete nut, I’d sprinkled paper packets of salt and pepper from the cafeteria into my Vans in the bathroom after lunch.

Instead of walking directly home, I detoured to the natural foods store and bought a dozen eggs, all of the essential oils, and the fennel that Mrs. Robinson had specified. The haul was expensive, and I blew half of my first weekly paycheck from my job, but I didn’t mind. My conversation with Mischa had made me anxious enough to consider hopping on the bus to pay Mrs. Robinson a friendly visit even though I wasn’t on the work schedule. However, Tuesday nights were when I was scheduled to speak with Trey. If there was any part of my weekly routine that I would never jeopardize, it was that phone call.

When I got home, I was surprised to find the house empty. It was rare that I arrived back at the condo earlier than Dad, and even though I never minded being home alone in Wisconsin, in Florida I felt kind of like a trespasser on someone else’s property. To busy myself and do something unexpectedly nice, I started dinner. I’d just set a tray of chicken in the oven to bake when I heard the growl of the automatic garage door opening.