BooksBarbecue
Back Spells for Lost Things
Chapters (42)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Prologue
  5. – 1 – Willow
  6. – 2 – Mason
  7. – 3 – Willow
  8. – 4 – Mason
  9. – 5 – Willow
  10. – 6 – Mason
  11. – 7 – Willow
  12. – 8 – Mason
  13. – 9 – Willow
  14. – 10 – Mason
  15. – 11 – Willow
  16. – 12 – Mason
  17. – 13 – Willow
  18. – 14 – Mason
  19. – 15 – Willow
  20. – 16 – Mason
  21. – 17 – Willow
  22. – 18 – Mason
  23. – 19 – Willow
  24. – 20 – Mason
  25. – 21 – Willow
  26. – 22 – Mason
  27. – 23 – Willow
  28. – 24 – Mason
  29. – 25 – Willow
  30. – 26 – Mason
  31. – 27 – Willow
  32. – 28 – Mason
  33. – 29 – Willow
  34. – 30 – Mason
  35. – 31 – Willow
  36. – 32 – Mason
  37. – 33 – Willow
  38. – 34 – Mason
  39. Acknowledgments
  40. More from the Author
  41. About the Author
  42. ALSO BY JENNA EVANS WELCH

To be fair, the problem is less with the Morgans themselves than it is with the fact that there are things that remind me of my mom everywhere. When I first saw Emma’s pearl tattoo, I thought it might have been a nod to my mom’s obsession with mermaids, but unfortunately, Emma seems to share the same mermaid-hoarding instincts. The shower curtain is printed with turquoise-finned mermaids, and next to the garage door is a sign featuring a mermaid brandishing a triton and the words MERMAID PARKING.

I get that to most people mermaids are not that big of a deal, but to me, they’re big fat emotion bombs. For as long as I can remember, my mom has been obsessed with mermaids. Movies, T-shirts, books, paintings, costumes; all of it. Once we even drove over a hundred miles to see an underwater mermaid exhibit in a small town in Florida.

Emma’s tattoo is the worst of it, though. Every time I see it, it’s like my brain thinks we’ve caught a glimpse of my mom, and then suddenly I’m keyed up, heart racing, breath shallow. Luckily, Emma and her tattoo haven’t been all that hard to avoid.

Emma is busy, the entire household is, and most of our communication feels perfunctory and half of it comes via notes that she slips under my door. New blue towels in the bathroom are yours. Spaghetti at six. If you need anything from the grocery store (shampoo? socks?), you can write it on the list on the fridge.

Her notes are oddly disappointing, because obviously I don’t want to spend a bunch of time with her, but if she was going to go to all this work to become certified to foster me, shouldn’t she at least be attempting to talk to me? The only real conversation we’ve had was the first night, when she brought me pizza and told me straight up what Kate/Kaitlin had told her during their “chat.” I know you’ve run away in the past, and I’m sure you’ve had your reasons for it. We want you to feel like you can start over here, and the only way we can work through this is mutual trust. We trust you, and we want you to feel that we do. Communication is our main goal right now.