Poppy shakes her head. “We promised Rosemary we wouldn’t tell Willow about the curse. She made us swear on a witch’s honor.”

“It was a very reluctant promise,” Violet says. “But she’s right. We did promise.”

All of my excitement is instantly replaced with annoyance. This is my family history too.

“Well, I didn’t swear on my witch’s honor,” Marigold says. “You and Poppy can sit in the corner and listen. I’ll do the telling. Besides, Willow already knows. Don’t you, Willow?”

All three of them look at me expectantly, and I can’t help the smile that escapes me. “Well… I read about it in the Book of Shadows—”

“I told you!” Violet says, slamming her hand down on the ground. “I told you she was the one who would get this figured out. All we had to do was give her the key and she’d start the journey on her own. She’s plucky, exactly like her mother.”

“Don’t you mean like Sage?” I ask hopefully, thinking about Sage’s perfectly eclectic house.

“No. Like your mother, dear,” Poppy says.

My shoulders slump slightly. But almost as quickly, I perk up with excitement. By reading the Book of Shadows, I’d started on a journey?

“But that doesn’t mean we are going to shepherd her along,” Poppy says. “We promised Rosemary, and I don’t take that lightly.”

“Poppy,” Marigold snaps. “Knowing about the curse is a Bell woman’s right. How is she going to navigate the world if she doesn’t know what she’s up against? Would you like it if you’d been walking around with a malediction hanging over your head you knew nothing about? Look at her. She’s bursting with life.”

Marigold points at me and I do my best to look both full of life and heavily burdened.

Violet and Poppy exchange a long glance, then seem to reach an accordance.

“Well…,” Poppy says. “I suppose if Willow wants to ask us a few questions, we could answer them.”

“And perhaps we could give her a tarot reading?” Marigold says. “A reading certainly can’t hurt anything.”

“Naturally,” Violet says. “Go on, Willow. What questions do you have for us?”

They beam at me expectantly, and for a moment I’m too nervous to form any thoughts. Then a million questions spring to mind, and I start with the one that is pressing on me most. I picture my mom’s and Sage’s handwriting intertwined in their Book of Shadows. “Do you know why my mom left Salem?”

Marigold shakes her head grimly. “She was betrayed.”