“The curse.” She slumps back against the wall, folding her arms over her chest. “Willow, that ‘curse’ destroyed my family. I’m not letting it come between us.”

“Mom, it’s already come between us.” How can she not see this? She blinks a few times, and her silence makes me brave enough to push again. “You’ve been lying to me about your past and our family for years. And its created so much distance.” I take a deep breath. “What happened between you and Sage?”

She’s silent for a moment, then she straightens, dropping her arms to her side. “Willow, it’s in the past. What happened here has nothing to do with you.”

It feels like a slap. Tears well up in my eyes. “It has everything to do with me. This is my family history too. I haven’t felt home in so long. But ever since I got here…” I take a deep breath. “It feels like I found the thing I was missing. Please don’t take it away.”

Her face is softening, and for a moment I feel hope. “Willow, I’m so sorry. The divorce was so hard, and you were so brave to move and leave everything behind. I’ve been working so hard to build a new life for you, but I’m afraid I’ve pushed you out in the process.” She walks forward, resting her hands on my shoulders. “We’ll work on home. But Salem isn’t it, okay?”

“Mom, please.” I’m genuinely pleading now. Every part of me is asking her to reach out, to listen to me. “I saw you at the willow tree the other night. I know you’re hurting. Please don’t shut me out anymore.”

She’s quiet for a long moment. “Say goodbye to Mason. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

– 30 – Mason

After I leave the bell house, I don’t know what to do with myself.

The past few hours have been an enormous swinging pendulum of emotions. Had it all really happened?

I can’t believe I told her about my mom. Sitting up there with her on the roof the loss had taken shape in front of me, its dark edges clear and defined. Normally that loss is something I can’t share with anyone, but somehow it had all come spilling out to Willow. And now she’s leaving. This is why I don’t open up to people—they’re never in my life long enough for it to matter. But even more importantly, I’m worried about her. Leaving her behind felt completely wrong. Is she going to be okay?

I pace Essex Street for about twenty minutes, too far from the hotel to get Willow into trouble but close enough that I can get to her right away if she needs me. I send her text after text.

Are you okay?

I’m on Essex.