Chapter 9 #2
“I felt like something was missing,” I say finally.
My voice grows quiet as I talk, almost without permission.
We’re alone in this room, but speaking of Secora Reed in the Day Realm is close to treason.
“Up until I saw her, I assumed I’d blocked her from my mind.
She killed my best friend. I didn’t want to remember her, you know?
But the other day, seeing her…I realized I couldn’t. ”
“What are you saying, Elliot?” he asks. He leans forward, propping an elbow on either knee. “You don’t think—”
“I do,” I interrupt. “I’m missing memories, Henry, and I’m inexplicably certain she stole them.”
“Elliot…” Henry starts, but his voice trails off until we’re subdued in strained silence.
Outside this room, the center bustles with healers and aides, with the occasional flashing codes and voices too distant to make out. But here, everything is quiet and still. There is only my unsteady breath and the steady tap of Henry’s shoe on the tiled floor.
“What makes you think she stole them?”
“I don’t know,” I say. Then, “She acted like she knew me, like she trusted me, but she wasn’t phased that I didn’t know her.”
Henry lets out a quiet hum.
“I used to be morbidly fascinated by her,” he says after a long gap of silence.
I look up in surprise, and the next words come out in a rush.
“I have a ton of articles on her. Did a few papers. Once I learned of your connection, I stopped researching, of course. But…I have them, if you want to look.”
“Yes,” I say. If I weren’t so desperate, I might feel embarrassed. Instead, I’m shuffling Henry’s parchments into a stack. “Show me everything you have.”
Several hours later, I sit at the kitchen table in Henry’s home.
His place is similar to mine. Too large for his needs and a bit messy.
Where my house is covered in shades of orange, yellow, and brown, Henry’s is purple and silver.
The color scheme gives me a headache, so I’m faced away from the living room, focusing only on Henry’s macabre collection of notes.
I imagine a number of people have a secret obsession with Secora Reed and her infamous murder. As one of the few witches to escape persecution, she’s something of a celebrity.
Not that I’d admit that to Mama.
As Henry works on his research, I comb through information, taking notes as I go. I’d come in with high expectations, and I already know I’m going to leave disappointed.
He’s hoarded dozens of articles, but there’s nothing to tie me to Secora Reed. Nothing besides the Blake family, of course, and I’d already known that one. I sigh as I read through my notes for a third time.
Secora Reed was born a hibernal witch. Both parents died of mysterious brain bleeds when she was eight months old.
From eight months until age seven, Secora lived in various orphanages.
Complaints were often made of her dark and unpredictable magic.
An estival witch, Mrs. Perskey, took mercy on Secora and housed her from age four to five.
Mrs. Perskey then died under the same mysterious conditions as Secora’s parents.
Following this, Secora was fitted with golden bands to make casting impossible.
She received specialized therapy while in an orphanage and continued it while under the care of the Blake family.
She remained there until the time of her imprisonment.
I tap my pen on the corner of the parchment.
Henry’s notes paint a picture of a troubled child with a vast hunger for chaos.
Multiple occasions of magic gone awry in her presence.
People hurt. Questions unanswered. Toward the end, even the bands could not control her power.
She set a boy on fire, mere weeks before killing Harrison.
Through it all, multiple teachers and caretakers reported the same warning: Secora Reed is dangerous.
They were right, and yet, they failed to stop her.
“Find anything useful?” Henry asks, startling me from my thoughts.
When I look up at him, he’s as bleary-eyed as I feel. We’ve been at this for too long, and I’m only now realizing it’s too late to venture home. I’ll be stuck crashing on his couch, which means my back will hurt like the Mother tomorrow.
“Not really,” I admit.
“Oh come on,” Henry groans. “You can’t tell me that. I spent over a year obsessing over that case. Did you see she set a kid on fire?
“Yeah, I saw it,” I say. I shove the parchments away, letting my head fall against the back of the chair. “It’s just…none of this explains why she killed Harrison.”
“Of course it does,” he says, clearly offended. “Harrison was the ex-boyfriend of the Blake girl. I’m sure Margot was heartbroken about something your friend did, and Secora melted his brain for it.”
I swallow, closing my eyes.
“Sorry,” he says instantly. “Didn’t mean to bring up Harrison or the fact…”
He trails off.
“What if I was there?” My voice cracks, and I take a shaky breath before trying again. “What if she came to kill Harrison, and I was there, and I didn’t save him? What if I stood there like a coward, and she stole my memories to make sure I couldn’t expose her?”
“Then be grateful,” Henry says. I don’t know when he moved but he’s suddenly at my side, rattling my shoulder until I look at him. His expression is somber. “Be grateful she didn’t kill you too. Thank the Mother she spared you, and leave well enough alone.”
“It’s not that simple—”
“It is,” Henry interrupts. “It is that simple. Leave it alone, Elliot, and stay far away from that woman.”
My only response is a forced nod, my jaw clenched tight.
He’s right. I should leave it alone.
But he’s wrong too. It’s not that simple. Even if I wanted to stay away from Secora Reed, I can’t. I need vampire blood to keep Mama alive until I find a cure—and Secora is the only one who will give it to me.