Chapter Twenty Lyra
I slipped out the back door and practically fled to my little trailer.
I shut the door behind me and sagged against it, letting the silence swallow me whole.
My face burned with humiliation. Mandy’s voice still rang in my ears.
And worst of all… Rab’s silence echoed like a hollow space inside my chest.
Had he wanted to come after me?
Had he been relieved I’d left?
For some reason, I didn’t care as much about everyone else thinking I was a failure, but it mattered to me what Rab thought. Even if it was tough for me to admit.
The door flew open, and I sucked in a breath, hope blooming.
“Lass. You’ve got to get this under control.” Marcie stepped in, worry on her face.
“Ugh, Marcie. You were watching?”
“Of course I was. I need to keep an eye on everyone. They’re like ants running around my space, and I don’t trust they won’t ruin things.” Marcie’s brows dropped in a glower as she eased the door shut behind her.
“I don’t know what to do. Should I just not use my magick at all? I’m an absolute failure,” I moaned, burying my face in my hands.
“Och, no, you aren’t. Nobody who tries is a failure, dinnae ken?”
“I mean, I’m not sure that’s really true,” I said, looking up at her.
“It is,” Marcie insisted, and she had that scary look in her eyes, so I just nodded along because that’s what you did when you were facing scary Marcie.
“Trying is the win, Lyra. Even if the outcome isn’t what you want it to be, you’ll always learn something that helps you the next time around.
Remember, it’s those who sit on the sidelines and watch and laugh that are the real failures. ”
“I—”
“I said what I said, Lyra. Now listen to it. Feel it. Absorb it.” Marcie tapped her chest hard before giving me one more fierce look to make sure I was absorbing her wisdom, then ducked out of the trailer.
I blew out a breath. She might be right, but did she have to be so damn intimidating when she delivered her wisdom?
I paced the small space. Stared at my reflection in the mirror until my eyes no longer looked shiny with unshed tears. I gave myself five full minutes, then another five, then one more for good measure—long enough that surely Rab would have finished whatever he needed to do and left the set by now.
Hopefully.
Only when I figured enough time had passed did I gather my things and crack the trailer door open a sliver.
No Rab in sight.
Good.
I stepped out, closing the door quietly behind me. I needed to find Vaughn and apologize for walking out during live filming.
Sloane was on her way to pick me up, as there wasn’t much space to park near the bakery, what with the production crew needing any available space.
I could have walked home, but since it was an early start, Sloane had insisted on driving me.
Despite the fact that I was twenty-five years old, she still managed to feel the need to mother me.
Mostly, I didn’t mind it. Sloane had been the glue that had kept us together when our toxic mother had almost torn us apart.
Some mothers weren’t meant for mothering.
Ours had been one of them.
“Nice job today, Lyra. It’s going to be a fun episode to edit.” Vaughn’s voice caused me to jump, and I whirled, hand at my chest.
“Thanks,” I said. “Listen, I’m sorry for walking out like that. I know the cameras were still on.”
“Don’t be. It makes for great television.” Vaughn smiled. He looked cute with a newsboy cap pulled over his head and a waxed canvas jacket buttoned up against the biting wind.
“Say, Lyra—”
I caught sight of Mandy slipping in through the back door of the bakery, and I held a hand up, interrupting him.
“Hey, sorry, Vaughn. I just want to catch Mandy before she leaves. See you tomorrow?” I was already moving past him.
The back entrance opened into the small prep corridor that led directly into the kitchen the crew was working in. Cables snaked over the floor, leftover desserts were being sampled, and a couple of production assistants were scraping eggs off the walls. I winced at the sight.
“Mandy!” I called.
A small hitch in Mandy’s step was the only indication that she’d heard me. I followed, dodging a stand mixer being wheeled past.
“Mandy! I know you can hear…” Annoyance, and my need to play peacemaker, caused me to speed up. I caught up with her by the big stainless steel sinks.
“What, Lyra? What?” She spun. “Why are you harassing me?”
“Harassing? Wait a minute. You’re the one who has been coming after me on the show. I’m not—”
“You are!” Her voice bounced off the walls, startling one of the crew.
“I haven’t responded to a single message of yours.
Ever since Sloane stole the presidency from me, you’ve been bothering me.
And I’ve tried to ignore you. I haven’t answered the door when you came knocking—uninvited, mind you—and I don’t return any of your calls. When are you going to leave me alone?”
Mandy crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips, her bright blue eyes flaming in her face. The harsh kitchen lights cut across her cheekbones, making her look like a villain in a very chic prison drama, and my mouth rounded in surprise.
“Mandy, truly, that was not my intention in the slightest.”
“I will not be mocked,” Mandy hissed, stepping forward. Her hand jerked up, and for a second, I thought she might jab a finger into my chest, but she seemed to catch herself and dropped it to her side with a strangled sound of frustration.
“I’m not mocking you,” I said, rubbing at the place she’d almost poked, out of reflex. “What the hell, Mandy?”
“I’m not like you messy MacGregors.” Mandy bared her teeth, like our very name tasted disgusting on her tongue. “Do you understand me, Lyra? I don’t need to parade my emotions out for the world to see. I can handle it. I have been handling it. On my own.”
“I wasn’t trying to mock you,” I said, squinching my face up, confused. “I was trying to be your friend.”
“My friend?” Mandy said it like I’d just offered her fried cockroaches to eat.
“Aye, your friend. I’ve been worried about you.”
Now it was Mandy’s turn to look confused. She tilted her head at me like she didn’t know what to make of the words I was saying.
“Worried? You’re worried about me?” She paused, then threw her head back, her laughter echoing off the hanging pots and pans. “Och, isn’t that rich? You? The girl who can barely manage her magick? From the family whose curse is ruining all of our lives? You’re worried about me?”
“Okay, so first of all… rude,” I said, putting a hand on my hip and sticking my lower lip out in a slight pout.
I’d never had someone so openly reject my friendship before, and I honestly wasn’t sure how to handle it.
“And secondly, aye, I was worried about you. I know the Charms were important to you, and it made me sad to think you were hurting. I don’t like to see people hurting.
Even if it’s someone as barely tolerable as you. ”
“Listen, doll, I’m sure you think the Charms was the be-all and end-all of my existence, but I can assure you, I’m doing just fine.”
I did a slow scan of Mandy’s baggy jeans and dark shirt and then raised my eyes to her messy hair. The Mandy I’d known when she was president of the Charms had dripped in designer clothes, and never did a hair of hers dare to stray out of place.
Mandy’s eyes narrowed at my perusal.
“I’m trying out a new look. You should consider it sometime.” She sniffed and gave my fitted dress a pointed once-over.
“Mandy, I’ve been checking up on you because I’m concerned, and I think there’s a way we can resolve these issues. You’re still a part of the coven. Sure, you made a mistake, but we all do. Why can’t we just put it behind us and move on?”
“My goddess, I knew you were the sweet one, but you’re just blindly optimistic, aren’t you?” Mandy rolled her eyes and turned back to the counter, snatching up a stack of mixing bowls. “Some things you can’t just glitter over and call it healed, Lyra.”
Before I could respond, Felicity came through the door.
“Hey, guys, coming through!” Felicity said, her voice bright and breathless.
She backed through the door, arms loaded with a precarious pile of baking trays, chopping boards, and a long narrow knife roll balanced on top.
“Vaughn said we need to clear all this before the crew can switch out decorations.”
“Careful, Felicity, the floor’s wet,” one of the PAs called as they left the room.
“I’ve got it!” Felicity sang out, which were, historically, the most worrying three words in the English language.
I moved automatically to help, stepping around Mandy. “Here, let me take—”
Everything happened at once.
My boot hit a slick patch of suds. My foot skidded. I flailed, reaching out instinctively for the counter, for the trays, for anything. Felicity, seeing me pitch forward, tried to twist out of the way and at the same time catch me, her arms jerking to compensate.
The top tray slid sideways. Something long and gleaming shot free as Felicity’s body followed it, slamming sharply into me as we both toppled to the ground.
The pain hit me before my brain caught up to what had happened. A hot, searing line along my side that stole my breath.
I froze.
The clatter of metal rang around the kitchen as the rest of the trays crashed to the floor.
I rolled, pushing myself up from the floor as Felicity tried to extradite herself from my limbs.
“Shite,” I gasped.
We all froze and gaped down at where a chef’s knife had sliced directly into my side, the fabric of my dress already darkening with blood.
“Lyra,” Felicity whispered, the color draining from her face. “Oh gods. Oh gods, I—”
“Don’t move,” Mandy snapped, her voice low and fierce. She grabbed the edge of the stainless steel table with white-knuckled hands, like she needed to hold on to something solid. “Felicity. Go get help.”
“I… I stabbed her,” Felicity breathed, stumbling to her feet.