Emma
Meg is gone. So is the boat.
Haley is furious. She keeps asking me, “Did you know? You and Meg were close. Did she tell you she was going to do this?”
“No!” I can’t believe Haley would think this of me after everything I’ve done for the coven. “And if she had, I’d have told
you right away.”
Haley looks like she believes me—for now.
Still, she called for an emergency manifestation ritual around the fire last night—a fire we actually needed for once because
it’s gotten so cold out since that big storm. I only brought one fleece and my puffy vest from Uniqlo, so I was especially
grateful for the fire since I was freezing.
And I guess all our intentions were aligned, because this morning when we woke up, Haley greeted us with the news that Hecate
had granted us a new boat.
I didn’t believe it until I saw it for myself. It’s not that I thought Haley was lying, but she has been known to exaggerate . . . like how she said we wouldn’t be hungry living only off the food we forage because Hecate will shower us with her abundance.
But she wasn’t exaggerating this time. The new boat is much better than the last one because this one can hold more people
and also has an engine.
Still, I don’t want to seem ungrateful—I know Bella sacrificed her hair last night, too, in order to attract Hecate’s bounty.
But I wish we’d manifested some tents, or at least warmer coats, since I’m still freezing. Today the only place it’s warm
is in the sun, but we’re hardly ever in the sun because of all the trees. So my fingers are basically frozen as I dig.
But when I mention this out loud, as a sort of joke, Haley snaps, “You should be grateful for the cold, Emma. It means Samhain
is coming, and with it, the rise of the darker half of the year, over which Hecate rules.”
“I am grateful for the cold,” I tell her. “And for all of the gifts Hecate has brought us.”
But I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last out here without a tent, or at least some gloves.
I know I’m not the only one who feels this way, because Trina is digging alongside me today. She just saw me struggling with
my spade because of my numb fingers, and she asked if I was all right.
“No,” I say. “I’m grateful for the boat. I really am. But I wish Hecate had blessed us with a tent, too. And maybe handwarmers
like I used to have when we went skiing in Breckenridge. And my Uggs. I really miss my Uggs.”
Trina nods. “I miss mine, too. Is there someone from home you could call and ask to drop off your Uggs?”
I look at her like she’s crazy. “How?” I whisper. “Haley made us leave our phones behind. She said we can’t call our families
anymore because she’s our family now.”
“I know.” Trina is digging hard. The cold doesn’t seem to bother her.
“But some of us have families back home who need us. My mom only has me and my siblings to take care of her. I don’t want her to worry about me, so I’ve been keeping in touch.
” When I stare at her in absolute shock, she gives a little laugh.
“Oh, come on,” she says. “What kind of mother goddess is going to punish me for being nice to my own mom?”
“Ladies.” Haley’s voice rings out. She’s making her rounds, checking to make sure we’re all working. Meg’s desertion has spooked
her, I think. It’s spooked all of us. “More digging, less chatting, please.”
I dig harder, but a part of me can’t stop thinking about what Trina said. My mind has been moving sluggishly lately because
I’m so hungry, and probably because of the cold, too. But even in my current state, I can see that Trina is right.
“A nurturer like Hecate wouldn’t punish you at all,” I whisper when I can’t see Haley anymore. “But how do you keep in touch
with your mom?”
“I have a second phone,” Trina whispers back. “The one I gave to Haley was my work phone. I kept my personal phone. I charge
it off her generator when she’s not looking. Do you want to borrow it? You’d have to be careful not to get caught but you
could at least call your mom and let her know you’re okay.”
I feel hope for the first time since we discovered Meg and the boat were missing. Even waking up to find Hecate had gifted
us with a new boat didn’t make my heart swoop the way Trina’s admission that she still has a phone does.
“Can I borrow it?” I ask, eagerly. “I’ll only call my mo—”
“Trina.” Haley is standing right behind us, and she doesn’t look—or sound—happy. “Come with me, please.”