Chapter 32
Honey
While Ruby waited in the cab, Honey watched the Hale family. Melly sat on Ethan’s shoulders, a sticky cider donut in one hand, the other pointing as she called out turns through the corn maze like a tiny general.
“Left!!” she commanded, and Ethan laughed, pretending to stumble.
Emma trailed behind them. Brody Fitch walked beside her and whispered something that made her giggle.
Brooke was perched atop the highest hay bale with a cluster of friends, holding court while eating a caramel apple.
Honey swallowed around the ache in her throat. She told herself she’d be back to visit. They wouldn’t even notice if she slipped out right now. They were wrapped in each other, in their community, just like they were supposed to be. This was a life she’d only been borrowing.
But she’d promised she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.
So, she took a breath and walked toward the corn maze, waving as she neared. “I’ve got to get going. I’m going to get a ride back to the city with Ruby.” She tried to keep her voice light, but it ended up coming out too cheerful.
Ethan hoisted Melly off his shoulders and set her down on the ground. “You’re going now?”
“It’s time,” she said quietly. Her voice caught, and she covered it with a small smile.
Melly rushed over and wrapped her arms around Honey’s legs. Honey ran a hand over her hair, holding her close. “I’ll miss you.”
Brooke climbed down from her throne of hay bales and walked over.
Emma stood just behind them, her fingers toying with the sleeve of her sweater. “You’ll come back, right?”
“Of course. I’ll come back for the harvest festival. Clover told me there’s an apple pie bake-off that I think I have a shot at.”
“That’s not for a whole month,” Melly said.
Honey crouched to her level, brushing a wisp of hair behind Melly’s ear. “Well, I definitely need time to practice. Unless you think I can’t take the competition?”
Brooke snorted. “You won’t stand a chance. But it’ll be fun watching you try.”
Honey laughed, pulling her into a quick hug. “I’ll bring my A-game.”
Her smile faltered when she looked at Ethan. He had his hands on his hips, and his gaze was too full of things he wasn’t saying.
“You sure?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got to get back. New job and all that.”
The words tasted flimsy. She took half a step forward, every part of her aching with the pull to bridge the space between them, but he didn’t move, and for a heartbeat she thought maybe that was her answer. That she should leave clean, and let the memory of these days stay unspoiled.
Still, she looked up at him, trying to capture the memory of him the way you press a flower between pages: his warm, scruffy face, the soft crease in his brow, the strength he carried.
She didn’t want to go.
God, she didn’t want to go.
“I’ll come back,” she said.
And then—eff it. Her body moved before her doubts could catch up. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding on like she could pour all the things she couldn’t say out loud into the hug. “Not just for pie,” she whispered against his shoulder.
For a breath, he was still, and she braced for the regret of having gone too far. But then he dipped his head, his voice rough. “Drive safe.”
She turned before she could cry, and jogged back toward the cab where Ruby waited. She took a minute before getting in, digging for composure as Ruby looked on.
She got in and Ruby immediately grabbed her hand and squeezed. “You ready?” Ruby asked.
Honey looked over at her friend, took one last calming breath, and nodded.
“Let’s get that witch.”
A couple hours later, they pulled up in front of a squat brick building tucked between a shuttered thrift store and a dog grooming salon.
It didn’t look like much—just a faded metal sign above the door that read The Core: Transitional Housing & Resource Center.
The kind of place you could pass a dozen times and never look twice at.
A few rusting bikes were chained to a post outside.
The lawn had gone mostly to weeds. But the front window glowed warm and golden, and a hand-painted sign taped to the glass read: YOU ARE SAFE HERE.
“This is not at all what I pictured,” Honey said.
“Just trust me.”
“You sure you ladies want to get out here?” Lou asked, biting into another one of the apples from the orchard. He leaned against the window with one elbow. “Place looks like the start of a horror flick if you ask me. Since we go way back, I won’t charge extra for a round trip if you wanna rethink.”
“We’re sure, and thank you for your time, sir.
” Honey gave one last look to the cab driver, struck by how different this all felt from the day he’d first brought her rattling down the dirt road to the Hale orchard.
Back then she’d been clutching her bag like a shield, unsure what she was getting into.
Now she was stepping out on purpose, choosing the strangeness instead of flinching from it.
Lou tipped his chin, flashing a grin. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
She gave him an extra tip, and as soon as they got out, she felt it. The air buzzed strangely here, like static just before a storm. The concrete shimmered faintly, as if heat rose off asphalt, though it was nowhere near warm enough for that.
They walked up to the door and rang the buzzer. After a long pause, the intercom crackled. A tired voice answered, “Can I help you?”
“We’re looking for someone who might be staying here,” Ruby said.
There was a pause, then: “This is a secure facility. We don’t give out resident information.”
“I understand,” Honey said quickly. “We’re not here to cause trouble. We don’t want to disrupt anything. But…if she’s here, she’s missing a family who still loves her. Her daughters need her.”
“Her sisters need her more,” the voice hissed.
The intercom clicked off, and something in Honey snapped.
“Dammit,” Ruby said.
Honey stepped forward and slammed her fist against the door.
“No!” she shouted, voice ringing out down the empty block.
“You tell her—Leticia Westbrook—you tell her Brooke still checks the mailbox like she might get a letter. That Emma has a boy she likes and needs her mother to help her with her hair. That Melly has a box of photos waiting for her mom to see!”
Ruby stood beside her. “Okay, damn,” she whispered. “Go, Honey.”
Honey banged on the door again. “She has a family! Responsibilities! She doesn’t get to run away and pretend her children don’t exist! They deserve better than that!”
Honey’s chest heaved, and she pounded again on the door with her fist until her hand ached. “And you remind her she left her power, but more importantly, she left her kids!”
She dropped her aching hand and stood there while her chest heaved. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t come all this way just to be shut out.
Just when she was looking up and considering if she could figure a way to reach the second-floor window, a soft buzz came.
“Oh, shit,” Ruby said.
The door creaked open, and a tall woman stepped into view. She was draped in layers of black and deep forest green. Her lipstick was the color of dried blood, and her voice was cold and bone-tired. “You’ve got five minutes. If she doesn’t want to see you, you’ll have to leave.”
They stepped inside, and the room was like being back in another time. Stone walls with floating lights that blinked like fireflies overhead. The air smelled damp with something like burning wood and oranges.
“Wait here,” the woman said, and then disappeared behind a large wooden door.
Honey and Ruby barely had time to exchange a glance before another figure appeared.
She looked nothing like the photo Melly slept beside. This woman was…still. Her hair fell down her back in a sleek braid. Her face was more angular now, beautiful and cold.
But, as Honey stared at her, she could pick out the pieces of the girls. Melly’s nose. The shape of Emma’s chin. Brooke’s hair.
“You must think I’m an awful person,” Leticia said.
“I do.”
“Honey…” Ruby warned.
But Leticia didn’t flinch.
Honey stepped forward. “You left three daughters. You walked away from your family.”
“I had my reasons,” Leticia said coolly. “I’m sure they’re fine without me. Ethan always was the better parent.”
“Ethan is amazing. But that’s not the point. You let those girls grow up wondering what they did wrong. You gave them a hole in their lives where their mother was supposed to be.”
“I was trying to survive.”
“You were trying to feel powerful again,” she shot back. “And maybe you got that. But you left three girls behind who are still waiting for a happy ending.”
Leticia looked away, jaw tight.
“Besides, you left your power,” Honey said.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes. You did.” She took another step forward, heat rising in her chest. “And while you’ve been here playing witch queen, your power has been running alongside the Marrow’s.”
Leticia rolled her eyes. “Clover and Juniper are nothing compared to the kind of power I’ve found here.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Honey’s voice turned cold. “Because they still show up for your girls. And if you don’t show up to at least take your power back,” Honey continued, “they’re going to lose everything. Your girls are going to lose their home.”
Leticia’s cold veneer faltered at that. Her eyes darted left toward the door she’d come through.
“I can’t leave,” Leticia snapped. “You don’t understand. Once you’re in the Core—”
“Well, try.” Honey was furious now. “Because if you still care about them, even a little, you’ll find a way. You don’t get to be the tragic figure anymore. You’re not a victim. You’re their mother.”
She dug into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The notice from the bureau.
“This is the date of the formal hearing,” she said, thrusting it toward her. “You want to keep hiding behind magic and excuses? Fine. But you show up there, or so help me, I will drag your name through every circle of witches in the state.”
Leticia stared at her.
“Be there,” Honey said, eyes blazing. “Or stay gone for good. But don’t you dare pretend you don’t have a choice.”
And then she turned and walked out, shoulders trembling, as Ruby silently followed behind.