But Nowhere House, for all that its name conjured up a place that was lonely and rootless, was anything but. It was, in fact, very lived in.

Giving the house a closer look than she’d had the opportunity to on her previous visit, Mika noticed that there were dozens of framed photographs on the walls of the girls at various ages from infancy to the present, the girls with one or more of the adults, and even a couple of lovely, chaotic, unstaged pictures of all three girls with all four adults.

Lillian, on the other hand, was barely present. Of the few photographs she was in (at least, Mika assumed it was her), she was on the edges, in motion and unclear, as if she hadn’t wanted to be included and had tried to get out of the shot at the last minute. Mika, who had not had any luck finding a decent picture of Lillian when she’d Googled her the night before, got the sense of a woman past middle age, with white skin, fair hair, and a slim figure, but that was about it.

“She doesn’t like having pictures taken of her,” Rosetta explained, correctly interpreting Mika’s confusion as they both examined the walls. “She says it’s because of what she is.”

Mika nodded; she knew of at least two witches in the Society who point-blank refused to allow themselves to be photographed. She didn’t understand it, precisely, because it wasn’t like witches were ageless, immortal creatures who were afraid someone might dig up an old picture of them from two hundred years ago and expose everything, but it wasn’t up to her to quibble with how other witches preserved their secrets.

At the top of the stairs, a large landing branched off into several rooms. There was a single bay window set into the wall opposite the stairs, letting more light in, and Mika looked outside to orient herself. She choked back a giggle when she spotted Ian below, waving his arms slowly over the floating koi pond like he was determined to find the invisible strings holding it up.

“This is my room,” Altamira announced proudly, jabbing a finger through the open doorway of one of the rooms leading off the landing. Mika caught a glimpse of a rainbow-patterned play tent, a handheld game console, and an absurd number of stuffed animals before she was swept along to the doorway of the next room, a much more muted, calming room with piles of books everywhere. “This is Rosetta’s room. And this one is Terracotta’s.”

Mika noticed that Terracotta’s bold, bright room had Pokémon plushies, an intricate model train, and absolutely no Terracotta. She also noticed the mortified look on Rosetta’s face.

“She’s not ill at all, is she?” Mika asked.