Chapter 35
When Rowan had told her she’d relive it, she hadn’t expected it to appear right before her eyes like a hologram. She’d imagined something more like a movie playing out in her head. Instead, a wavering image of her father stood in front of the safe. He was speaking to a second wavering figure.
Her.
A version of her from ten months ago. A thinner, more polished version of herself, but with a face that had been hollowed out by stress.
“You couldn’t even keep a job that was a personal favor to me.”
“You don’t understand what happened. No one does. Someone cast a spell on me!”
“Stop it with that nonsense!” he snapped. “You sound unhinged—going on about spells and magic. Do you have any idea how this makes me look? I went out on a limb to get you that job, and now people are asking what’s wrong with my daughter. You think I enjoy those conversations?”
“Of course not…”
His eyes narrowed to a point. “I am humiliated. You can’t manage the basic responsibilities of a job, you blame everyone else for your failures, and when that doesn’t work, you make up fairy tales. You were raised better than that.”
When he could tell she was properly cowed, his voice softened.
“Take this as a sign you’re being called to your true purpose—your relationship with Grayson.
The family you two are going to build. That’s where your focus is going to be soon anyway, right?
” She hesitated but then finally nodded.
“So why not start now instead of making yourself crazy pushing yourself to do something you were obviously not made for?”
He turned toward the safe, and Hayleigh almost missed it. She was too busy looking at her past self, who had allowed her father to break her down and then rebuild her in the image that suited his purposes.
She wanted to reach out and hug that past Hayleigh. To tell her she was more than the sum of his judgments, and that though the following year would be difficult, next Christmas would bring with it exactly what it was meant to.
A chance to start again.
But there was no reaching her past self, only learning from it. Besides, she had a safe to crack. She watched as he entered his code, murmuring the numbers aloud in the hopes the Midwinters would help her remember.
As her father shoved the paperwork inside the safe, the memory thinned, growing wispy and drifting away mote by mote. Rowan must have released the spell.
“Focus on your future,” said her father’s voice, fading out like a song that had reached its end. “Not your past.”
Had the other two seen any of what just happened? She glanced at them, but from their looks of curiosity, she had to assume they hadn’t.
Stephan was still nearby, though, and when she reached out to wrap her arms around him, he didn’t ask questions, only pulled her tight and close. She leaned in, allowing him to hold her entire weight, knowing he would as long as she needed it.
Finally, she let go and said, “Let’s see what’s inside.”
The safe popped open with a satisfying click as she pressed the final number. Past emergency cash stores and pieces of heirloom jewelry was a sleeve of paperwork.
It did not take long to find what she needed—physical copies of the Eucharist invoices and contracts she had seen in spectral form. There were many more like them, but she couldn’t think about looking through them. It was too much.
“What the hell is going on?”
She whirled toward the door, where her father stood in a slick black suit. His shirt was untucked, and something had snipped off the lower half of his tie in a jagged line.
It would have been impossible to lie given the state of things, so she simply straightened her back and said, “I’m turning Goshen in for what happened in Eucharist.”
Her father’s eyes widened, and then narrowed again, studying her. “You’ll be implicating me too. But I suppose you know that.”
“I do.”
And then something surged through her. An idea that had not occurred to her until that very moment. A grace she knew she did not need to offer, but in the spirit of second chances, the offer rose to her lips. “But you could do it first.”
His eyes widened, and the Midwinters looked at her with equal shock. After a moment, Stephan’s surprise transformed to a smile, and he gave her a nod of support.
“What do you mean?” asked her father, wary.
“If you go forward before we can, you’ll get a better deal.”
And with his cooperation, the case would be stronger, but she didn’t mention that part out loud.
“I don’t think you’re getting out of this with zero consequences,” she continued, “but they will be…less. You won’t lose everything. Mom won’t lose everything.”
If she’d expected any gratitude, she didn’t get it, only the same ferocity that lit his eyes whenever he was defied.
“So let me get this straight—it’s turn myself in, torch my professional credibility forever, and lose almost everything, or you destroy this family? Those are the only two options here?”
For a moment she said nothing, but a surge of warm magic ran up her legs, steadying her, and Stephan brushed his hand against her back. He was beside her. In everything.
“I’m doing what’s right and giving you the chance to do the same thing.”
Across the room, Colt Gray trembled with barely contained fury. She slid her arm into Stephan’s, and Rowan stepped up beside her so that she was flanked by witches on either side.
“We’re going now. Think about it—please? Think about the people of Eucharist, and the Christmas they’re having. You can help make the next one better. You can make it better for you too.”
And then she had the chance to witness Stephan’s full power for the first time.
Her father stormed in her direction—intent, probably, on snatching the papers back—but when he reached a point a few feet away from them, Stephan barked, “I don’t think so,” and every intention drained from his face.
Colt stood still and placid, with a look of mild befuddlement, like he knew he wanted to say and do something else but couldn’t figure out what it was.
Hayleigh had never seen the fight drain from someone that fast.
“Mr. Gray,” said Stephan, staring down her father, who could only gape back up at him.
“I recommend listening to your daughter.” He could have done anything to Colt at that moment, and her father would have been powerless to stop it, and she could tell there was a part of him that wanted to take advantage of it.
The part that had loomed large whenever she mentioned the hurts of her past.
But he was bigger than that feeling—much bigger—and so only stared.
Rowan, apparently, wasn’t feeling quite so generous. She pushed a finger into Colt’s chest. “Yes, my big brother is why you can’t do anything but shake in those overpriced shoes right now, so remember that when you think about what you do next.”
And the three of them made for the exit arm-in-arm. When they were far enough away for the effect to wear off, her father shouted after them, “You get nothing from this family now. You hear me? Don’t even think of stepping foot in this house again!”
She leveled her gaze at him.
“That’s the plan, Dad.”
The house had emptied when they finally emerged. The Wild Hunt had mostly chased after the retreating guests, so that only a few still lingered.
The Yule cat had scratched itself a nest in a handcrafted Italian couch and was curled up within a mound of ravaged foam, batting a strip of whiskey-colored leather, while a Tomte gnome busied itself swapping out the cold Rococo party decor for more homey, festive alternatives.
“Hayleigh!” Kelsey emerged from a hallway and threw her arms around her. “Did you get what you need?” And then she paused, unsubtly looking Stephan up and down. “You sure did.”
Hayleigh lightly pinched her sister. “Kelsey, this is Stephan and Rowan Midwinter. And yes, we got the evidence.”
“You should come check out Mom, then,” said Kelsey, taking her by the hand and tugging her on.
Luda Gray was backed against a wall. A spectral man bound in wispy chains ambled toward her, bellowing about how she was doomed to his same fate if she did not change her ways.
Her mountainous Marie Antoinette hair had toppled over and hung on only by a few bobby pins, straining to break free from her head.
When Hayleigh had called the Wild Hunt, the last thing she’d expected was to see a Dickensian specter in their ranks, but there was Marley, going on about the chain he forged in life, link by link.
It made her wonder about these creatures, and whether they inspired the human imagination or had instead been inspired by it. Or whether the line between those two ideas was even particularly substantial.
The way her mother looked now—cowering, afraid—it was as if her insides had finally broken through to her outsides.
It had taken Hayleigh too long to understand the way that fear was at the heart of everything Luda Gray did—fear of aging, fear of poverty, fear of her husband—and she had passed that destructive instinct on.
“Let her go,” she called, and then turned in a circle. “You can all go. We got what we needed.”
Across the room, the Yule cat leaped from the couch and bounded into the fireplace, disappearing up it in a single leap. The Tomte gnome finished hanging a star made of wood curls and gave her a smart little tip of his pointy red hat before slipping out a window.
Finally, the ghostly figure of Marley turned to look at her, shimmering for a moment before vanishing with a bow.
“Hayleigh? Kelsey?” Luda’s eyes strayed over the Midwinters. “What’s going on? Where did the nechyst go?”
“I released them,” said Hayleigh. “I was the one who brought them here.”
Her mother’s eyes fixed on her with a start. “You did what?”
“You could see them, couldn’t you? Always? Even though you told me they weren’t there?”
Her mother’s elusive expression confirmed the suspicion. She sighed and said, “I’m leaving, Mom. And you shouldn’t expect me back soon.”
She tugged the others toward the door, and Luda looked stunned for a moment before giving chase. “What? Going? Why?”
“Ask Dad,” said Hayleigh as they neared the grand double doors at the front of the house. “Make sure you get the full story.”
“But where are you going?”
“Away. And don’t think you can check my location anymore. It’s off. It has been for a while.”
“But the money—”
“You can keep it. It’s not keeping me here anymore.”
“But you can’t just leave! Tomorrow is Christmas!”
“Yes, it is.” She slid her hand into Stephan’s. Warm energy spread from his palm to hers, tickling down her spine. “And I’ll be spending it where I don’t have to make deals for my place.”
“You think there’s room for one more?” asked Kelsey.
“Always,” said Stephan.
“Our dad makes twice as many sticky buns as we need,” added Rowan.
Their mother looked between them, and her voice took on a desperate edge. “Please, think about what you’re doing. You only get one mother.”
Hayleigh stopped and turned to stare back into smoky gray eyes that matched her own, begging her to reconsider.
“I have thought about it. I’ve been doing nothing but thinking about it. This place is a cage, Mom, and I’m not hanging around just so you’re not the only prisoner.”
Her mother’s mouth dropped, and she stared after them. Finally, she said, “I wanted you to have everything I didn’t.”
“I know, Mom, but I want something different. I’m going to go see Grandma and Grandpa for Epiphany. If you want to see me, you can find me there.”
As Hayleigh took a few steps back, the wind carried a voice between them.
“Luda Vasyk.”
Her mother turned toward the forest stiffly, clearly knowing what she would find. Baba Yaga stood at the border of the forest, and Luda’s eyes widened in unmistakable recognition.
“Baba Yaga,” she whispered, and then turned and fled back into the house.
When the door shut behind her, it was as though the final tether snapped, and Hayleigh turned to the others.
“Let’s go home.”
And then she left the Gray house for the final time.