For a moment I’m too distracted to focus on what he’s pointing at. “Do you think that’s like the title or something? It’s weird that it’s painted into the image. Thalia? Thalio?”

The sounds rearrange themselves a few times in my head before I hear it. My heart thuds in my chest. Did he say “Thalia”? “What? Where?”

“There.” He grabs my hand, guiding my finger to the spray of water crashing behind the mermaid, and suddenly I see it. Painted into the white crest of the wave, in teeny, tiny lettering, is the name I read in Sage’s letter. Thalia.

My heart nearly drops out of my body. “No way. No way,” I say.

He carefully lets go of my hand, like he’s releasing a butterfly. “Does that word mean something to you?”

“She’s a person. An important one.” I kick off my shoes, then catapult myself onto the bed, stepping over pillows until my nose is only inches from the painting. The name is painted into the white spray above her in an off-white, the letters almost like a crown above her. It would be so easy to miss. If it weren’t for Mason, I probably wouldn’t have seen it at all.

The letter from Aunt Sage of the curse added a lot of details—but the witch’s name had felt like the most important one. Seeing her name in a second place makes it feel a lot more real, but also brings up a lot of questions.

Find Thalia.

I lower my gaze to the mermaid’s face. Is this her? And if so, why would Frederick paint her as a mermaid?

“Is she your relative?” he asks.

“No…” My hands fumble for the letter, but I manage to stop myself. “We aren’t related. But she is, ah, connected to my family.”

If “connected” means she cursed my great-great-great-(great?)grandmother. Not that I’m going to explain that to Mason; he’ll think I’ve lost it. Besides, I’m too busy staring at her. Thalia looks intense. Fin aside, she definitely seems like someone who could get angry enough to create a generational curse.

“Really?” He looks at the painting, then back at me before shrugging. “Okay. I mean, I did read that every redhead in the world is related. You all have a common ancestor.” He has one arm up like he’s ready to catch me if I topple over, which is honestly a possibility. And yes, it’s awkward that I’m up here, but I physically cannot remove myself. Is this my first clue?

“No. She’s like… a family friend.” Not even close.