The Midwinter Mirror

Prologue Bad Things Happen When it Snows

Zayne

Ishould have left before the storm hit. Now I’ll be lucky to get out of here.

But I couldn’t go without saying goodbye.

The last note of “Away in a Manger” hangs in the cold air like glass.

I stay in the shadow of the yew trees, waiting, trying to hold myself together. I just need to get through this, get the fuck away from this place, and then I can fall apart. But I can’t let Tansy see me break.

The snow thickens, soft and menacing, and the tang of ice and smoke bites the air.

Finally, the church doors spill light and people. Parents herd kids toward cars. I spot her immediately. Dark red curls under a knitted hat, cheeks flushed, small hand wrapped around a cardboard lantern. Tansy. Four years old and still fearless.

None of this is real for her. She doesn’t understand that Mum and Dad are gone forever. And soon I’ll be gone as well.

I step out from the shadows. Tansy sees me, and her eyes light up.

She pulls free of our aunt and races toward me.

I go to one knee in the snow, and she barrels into me.

I catch her, my throat burning. For a second, I hold her close, breathing in the sweet smell of oranges and peppermint.

My hands shake. I lace my fingers behind her coat so she won’t feel it.

Gently putting her away from me, I force a smile. “Hey, trouble.”

“You missed the singing,” she tells me, scandalized.

“Couldn’t find a note.” My voice scrapes. I keep it light. “Listen—I have to go away for a while.”

Her face falls. “Are you going to see Mum and Dad?”

Unlikely. “Yeah.” The lie tastes like metal.

“Will you be back for Christmas?”

“No, sweetheart, I won’t be back for Christmas.” Not for any Christmas.

“But, Zayne, it won’t be the same without you. Take me with you.”

“I can’t, Tans.” My voice almost breaks. The rage and powerlessness rise up to choke me. I lost my mum and dad only days ago. And now I’m losing Tansy. But I’m only fifteen. What the fuck can I do?

Besides, a little voice whispers in my head, maybe everyone is right, and she’ll be better off without me.

“I’ll send you a card every Christmas, with where I am. And if you ever need me, you write. Anything at all, I’ll come. Deal?”

She thinks—dead serious—then nods. “Deal.” She fishes in her pocket, produces a red paper star on a bit of gold thread—the ones they handed out to the kids to hang on the tree. She loops it clumsily around my wrist. “So you don’t forget.”

“I won’t forget.” I press my forehead to hers. “I love you, Tans.”

“Love you more.”

My aunt’s shadow covers us. “That’s enough. Tansy, come here.”

I straighten, grit my teeth, and my shoulders stiffen. I stare down at my aunt—a long way down—and fear flashes in her eyes. She’s scared of me. She really believes I could harm my sister. Around us, conversation dips; a mother draws her kid behind her. No one meets my eyes.

I kiss Tansy on the head one last time and push her toward my aunt. “I’m leaving,” I tell her, simple as that. “I needed to say goodbye.”

“Well, it’s said. Now go. You’re not wanted here.”

I stand, facing her. “I could never hurt Tansy.”

“You might not mean to,” she says. “That’s different from can’t.” Her eyes flick to the church, then to the road that runs toward the hollow.

I want to scream that I haven’t done anything wrong. But the words won’t come out, and I stand mute, without the breath to defend myself as they walk away.

I stare after them until Tansy disappears.

Snow crunches behind me, and I know who it is before I turn. Holly, almost as tall as me, with her silver hair in a braid over her shoulder. Pale eyes, red from crying.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She reaches out a hand, and I step back.

I can’t do this. She’ll break me. And I need the strength to walk out of this shithole.

She looks at me like she’s bracing for an impact she can’t see. She opens her mouth, closes it, swallows.

“Say it,” I growl.

She shakes her head once, hard. “I didn’t see anything.”

Same words she gave the police. It has to be a lie. Except why? Maybe she was so traumatized by what she witnessed that she blocked it from her mind. But she didn’t seem traumatized.

Holly’s my best friend, has been since we were both eight years old. I knew one day we’d be more. It was inevitable. And I can’t hate her now, however much I want to.

But she found us. Me unconscious, Mum…I swallow. A white drift. A dark shape. Blood in the snow. Holly had to have seen something that would explain what happened.

“Please stay,” she whispers. “Until after Christmas, at least. My father says you can live at our house. You don’t need to go. This is your home.”

Part of me wishes it were that easy. I could live at the manor with Holly and her family. See Tansy.

Then something thin and high carries on the wind—the tinkle of distant bells. The road to Silvergate lies white as bone. For a heartbeat, the hairs on my neck lift.

“You want to rescue me, princess?” I say. “I get it. You want to save me from harm.” She always did. Whatever reason she had for lying that day, it wasn’t to hurt me. I know that. It doesn’t make things any better, though. “But you can’t save me from this. I have to go.”

The last light dims from her eyes. She nods once, like she hates herself for it. “Zayne—”

“Don’t.” If she apologizes, if she just tells me why she lied about what she saw at Silvergate, then I’ll stay.

And if I stay, there’s a good chance I’ll turn into everything they’re afraid I am.

“Goodbye, Holly,” I say, and turn to walk away.

This place is cursed.

Maybe I can’t outrun it.

But I have to try.