“Not that I know of.” His breath tickles my ear and for one moment I’m aware of how close we are, the sides of our bodies pressed together, his shoulder against mine, his hip pressed against my leg. My nerves buzz together with a light, fluttery feeling that has absolutely nothing to do with what has happened tonight and everything to do with this particular moment.

The aunts said to find a helper. Not a crush.

I roll away quickly, breaking the connection. “Come on, let’s go see what she was looking at.”

Neither of us is brave enough to turn on any lights, so we creep through the house in darkness, bumping into each other on the stairs and crashing into bookcases and end tables before carefully letting ourselves out into the back. The willow tree looks huge in the darkness, and just as still as it did earlier. I duck under its branches and try to arrange myself in the same position my mom was in.

“See anything?” Mason asks.

“A tree trunk,” I say.

“Here.” He flips on the light on his phone and holds it over my shoulder as I run my hands along the bark.

I manage to find the knotted branch, and I hold it up for Mason to see.

“Is tying branches into knots a normal activity for her?” He reaches for it too, and our hands brush lightly.

“Not that I know of.” I let go of the knot, and then, annoyingly, my eyes sting. I’m exhausted by my mom’s secrets. If she would talk to me, it would be so much easier. Why does everything have to be so secretive with her? My body suddenly feels very, very heavy, and I slump against the tree.

“You okay, Willow?” Mason asks.

Fine. I’m fine, like always. But this time the feelings bubble over. “Why won’t my mom tell me anything?” My voice comes out spiky and ferocious-sounding, but Mason doesn’t look alarmed. He turns off his light, and it’s just us in the darkness under the willow branches.

“What do you mean?”

“She acts like Salem means nothing to her. She won’t even go inside the house. But then she’s out sneaking around the garden at night? I don’t get this.”

I hug the Book of Shadows to my chest. It suddenly feels like it weighs a million pounds. When I look up, Mason is studying my face in a soft way that makes me want to burst into tears.

He must think I’m a complete disaster. “Sorry, Mason. I didn’t mean to unload everything on you.”

He steps a little closer, stooping to keep his head out of the branches. “You don’t have to be sorry. You can tell me anything you want to.”