She looked everywhere but at her sister.

They swam for a while, or Imogen swam and Haven watched. Imogen’s legs were strong, and she didn’t seem to feel the cold.

Haven sunned on the river’s margin, made of all kinds of pebbles. Dark and pale pebbles. Scratchy and smooth. Broken from glass or chipped from cement or made when the earth pushed down on itself for thousands and thousands of years.

Imogen looked over with her dark eyes, fighting to keep them wide when the sun was blaring. “You can be a witch, too.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be one,” Haven said. Even though she really, really did. But she also wanted to be normal like her parents. Imogen had everything easy. She couldn’t stop herself from doing what she wanted.

“You should try it,” Imogen said. “It’s fun.” She smirked at the water, and it flicked onto Haven’s feet, getting her icy and wet.

Haven snatched her toes back. “Hey! You did that!”

“You can’t prove anything,” Imogen said, but a second later, water that had been totally calm slapped at the shore and then broke over Haven in a cold, glassy sheet. She shrieked. Imogen laughed as she bobbed in the water.

“Stop,” Haven said.

“Okay,” Imogen said. She swam in a little, found her footing, and stood up. The water was building, slapping Haven over and over.

“Stop!” Haven screamed. Her voice rose, but it was their special swimming hole and there was no one around to hear except Imogen.

Haven started to cry.

“I’m trying,” Imogen said, looking upset but not actually stopping the water. “Everything was fine until I tried to control it.”

“Shut up,” Haven said. “You’re lying. You’re doing it on purpose.”

“Why don’t you believe me?” Imogen asked as the water rose and rose, as she swirled her hands in strange shapes, and the water swirled, too, until it was a hand grabbing for Haven’s throat.

Haven screamed, and the sky went white.

Danny: Now

Iwonder how long she’s been keeping that story in. Haven has a shocked look on her face, eyes hard with shine and chin jutted so her mouth is still open an inch.

“Do your parents know about that?” I ask.

“Seriously?” Haven asks. “If I told them, they would have had Imogen taken away.” She looks down at her fingers, twisting them into a pale knot. Then she looks back up at me and does damage control. “I woke up and everything was fine. We told Mom and Dad that I got heatstroke. I didn’t get to go outside for the rest of the summer.”

“That sounds bad,” I say. “And not really fair.”

Haven looks at me like I single-handedly turned night to day. “That’s what I thought.”