her twin sister - there are just things you never want to have to do. I haven ’t gone into my Aunt’s garage since the funeral. “ I went through every box. I know she’d been working on the curse for several months before . . .” Her breath hitched. She paused for a moment. “But I couldn’t find a single note.” “ Oh.” Something stronger seemed more appropriate. I just didn’t have it in me. We were talking about my mom. “ I did find a couple things you should see. She kept a book of you. Baby photos. Camping trips. Your first Wiccan ceremony.” She made a sound - half sob/half-laugh. “Sweet Spirits, you should see the look on your face at your first gymnastic competition.” I could imag ine. I’d been on the Broomstick Gymnastic team for a couple years. I’d been terrible. And still, mom had taken pictures and saved them in a book for me. “I . . .” I coughed, swallowed the lump in my throat. And the three after that one. “I’ll look at it later.” Maybe in a hundred years I wouldn’t feel as if someone was stabbing me whenever I thought about my mom. “ Sweetheart.” I held my breath. I didn ’t want to fight with my aunt. After going through all of those memories, she had to be feeling vulnerable and shaky too. I wasn ’t ready. I have no idea know when I would be ready. I simply knew it wasn’t now. “ All right. I won’t push.” I could breath again. “On that. But I also found Sam’s Spell Book. I want you to take it.” I froze. The door to all my night mares creaked alarmingly. Usually, I managed to keep that door locked tight. A witch ’s Book of Spells is her most sacred object. It’s a rite of passage when you receive your book. It’s also a witch’s vulnerable spot when it comes to magic. As most witches - our coven aside - are immortal, these books are kept in a secret location known only to the owner. On the extremely rare occasion when a witch died, her Spell Book was passed down to her closest relative. Me. With our background and exclusion from the majority of the Wiccans, we have always been a bit lax with certain customs. It shook me right down to the tips of my boots that my aunt wanted me to take part of this one. My mother had given me her desk when I was a child. I could deal with that. I could even treasure it. This would be the first thing of hers I had received after her death. When she ’d died, we’d simply boxed everything up, put the boxes in the garage and shut the door. Then tried to limp along as if things were somehow going to be all right. She ’s been gone for seven years now and I still try to deny it. “ Ah, I don’t . . .” The gasp was slight, barely a whisper of a whisper, but I heard it. Damn the Ruby Slippers. If I refused, it would crush my aunt. My only living relative. I gritted my teeth. “ I’ll pick it up when I grab Al, okay?” “ Yes. Thank you, Kate.” I pretended not to hear the tears in her voice and switched subjects. “ How did Bigfoot do today?” I ’d cast another healing and sleeping spell before I’d left this morning. As well as an odor control one. The spell from the night before was still working, but I did not want to chance that one at all. My entire olfactory system was still recovering. “Great. I checked on him. Her. It. We really should find out what sex it is.” “ I know. I just don’t feel comfortable pawing through all that fur. Especially while it’s asleep.” Aunt Tabitha sighed. “ I know what you mean, but it just doesn’t seem right, calling it an it.” That kind of ruffled the fur al ong my neck too. “ Once it wakes up, we can try to ask it.” I offered. “ IT SPEAKS?” Whoops. Guess I forgot to mention a few things during the chaos of last night . “ No. Actually, it didn’t talk to me. But it did seem to understand what I was saying.” I paused. “And it flipped me off.” “ Bigfoot flipped you off?” I tried. Really I did. I just