Chapter Forty-Seven
Lilith
Lilith closed the grimoire and returned to the bed and breakfast, her mind a live wire of questions.
Every part of her life had been influenced by the linking spell, set in motion the moment she was born under a full moon.
The tease of her powers, straddling between two worlds, never fitting into either, leaving her on the outskirts.
And Mama…
She’d blocked the full force of Lilith’s gifts to protect her, whether she knew it or not. In doing so, she had been robbed
of her own legacy.
Both Mama and Mama’s mama had felt like something was missing in their life. Was that why?
A twist of pain radiated from Lilith’s chest.
Mama never felt the beauty of power threading through her veins, shimmering on her skin, connecting her to the earth.
No wonder she always felt incomplete.
Rage and sorrow, hurt and confusion all muddied up into one great mess, like a kid making a new color by using every crayon in the box.
Lilith sank onto the bed and pulled out her phone.
Three missed calls from Asher.
She grimaced. Checking in with him at some point would have been the polite thing to do. Not that he needed to get a call
from her now in the middle of the night.
Instead, she opened the photo app, intending to study the pictures she’d taken of the grimoire.
Her photo count changed from 10,501 to 10,495. She blinked as the numbers continued ticking down, like the seconds descending
toward something momentous.
Frowning, she skimmed up to pictures of Essie with Amara cuddled in her lap from a few weeks prior, at one of the various
story hours. There were also a few pictures of blooming camellias in Johnson Square.
No pictures were of Lilith.
Pulse fluttering, she swept her thumb down, scrolling through dozens of images at once before finally seeing a selfie with
her and Essie and a few snaps of Lilith suggestively holding a cocktail that Essie had insisted she take for a possible dating
profile.
The pictures dissolved before her eyes, while those of coffee cups and trees scooted upward to take their place.
Erasing her.
Like a mirror with no reflection.
A quiet erasure.
As if she had never existed at all.
Hands shaking, she opened her texts, tapping out a message to Essie.
I’m scared.
Her finger hovered over the send button, trembling.
Never had she needed someone more, to remember her. To let Lilith know she was still seen.
For Lilith to reaffirm the knowledge that she did exist.
Finally, she hit send and her body tensed.
With hope.
With fear.
Three dots appeared and disappeared as Essie began to type then stopped, then started again. This repeated several more times.
Then came the reply:
Who is this?