Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
The local NACOW offices are an hour in the opposite direction of Oak Spires on a good day. I managed to get an appointment with Director Erikson for Wednesday, but last night, we got walloped with the first big snowstorm of the season, making my drive today slow and plodding.
Thankfully, my anxiety over seeing my sister had me out the door forty minutes early, so I still make it to the offices on time.
I park in the visitor section, my boots crunching over the snow as I pass the designated parking spot that used to be mine, when this was my office. Before Nanette decided I was a waste of space for more reasons than my lack of healing magic.
Yet despite the physical reminder, my mother’s voice doesn’t assault my memory.
A swell of pride washes through me. I’m not the same person I was the day my mother threw me out of the family. I’ve built a life for myself, with friends who care about me. Who like the version of me that feels authentic and true. Xander. Deanna. Even Teagan.
And though our relationship is over, I believe Elle saw me, too. That, outside the moment of her deepest grief, she cared about me more than my magic.
Despite my growing confidence, I’m glad to know I won’t run into my mother today. According to the NACOW website, Nanette is all the way across the country, presenting at some fancy conference in California.
Warm air blasts me from all sides as I step through the sliding doors into the NACOW building.
The decor hasn’t changed at all in the half decade that I’ve been gone, and the familiarity of it settles some of the anxiety swirling beneath my skin.
I may not fit in this place, but I understand how it works.
I dressed accordingly, in one of my old suits, paired with boots that can withstand the snow and still look boardroom appropriate.
The receptionist directs me to the elevators with instructions to head to the seventh floor, where Director Erikson’s executive assistant will be waiting for me.
Fuck, it’s weird to think of my baby sister having an executive assistant. The last time I saw Flora she was a college junior. Now, at twenty-five, she’s the youngest director in NACOW’s history.
When the elevator spits me out, I’m greeted by her overeager assistant. He offers me a glass of water that I decline and directs me to the waiting area. I perch on the edge of a chair and trace calming sigils along the edge of my thigh.
This is Flora, I remind myself, not Nanette. This is the same sister who healed my cuts and bruises when we were kids. We haven’t spoken since Nanette threw me out, but that doesn’t mean that girl is gone completely.
I hope.
The moment the clock strikes the top of the hour, the office door swings open and I officially see my sister for the first time in five years.
She’s grown so much since then. The unruly black hair we shared all our childhood is now cut into a sleek, straightened bob that curls against her jaw.
Her suit looks tailor-made to fit her exact measurements, and the three-inch heels are definitely new.
Flora levels her dark gaze at me, the same deep brown as my own, and clasps her hands behind her back. “Ms. Ainsley. Come in.”
Her cold formality settles over my shoulders like frost, but I push myself to my feet and follow her into the large office.
The door closes behind us on its own, a bit of untraditional magic that I’m surprised NACOW allowed. Flora gestures at the chair in front of her massive desk. “Have a seat, Ms. Ainsley.”
“As you wish, Florentia.” It’s petulant to echo her formality with the use of her proper first name, but the distance between us now that we’re sitting face-to-face grates on every hurt that I’ve weathered and hidden for so long.
Flora sits rigid in her chair, something akin to pain flashing in her eyes. “What is it you expect from me? I assume this visit is about the upcoming audit in Oak Spires. You’re here for professional reasons, not personal ones. So, I’m being professional.”
“Right. And let me guess, you were doing your job when you denied the application that had my name on it?” I scoff and lean back in the chair, all pretense of professionalism gone. “Tell me you wouldn’t have given the application a stamp of approval if any other witch’s name had been on that form.”
“You don’t know the first thing about how this department works.
” Flora glares at me, leaning her forearms on the massive desk.
“You’ve been flouting the council’s rules this entire time.
How many magical innovations have you failed to register this year?
How many have you created since you founded your business? ”
Shock melts some of the anger from my body. “You…you know about my business?”
“Of course I do, Pippa.” The tightness in her posture deflates. Her tone softens until she sounds like the girl I used to know. “Do you remember the woman who came to you for help with a jealous ex? It would have been about three years back.”
Confusion and an emotion I can’t name tighten my throat. “If by ‘jealous ex’ you mean one step shy of stalker, then yes.”
Flora smiles. “She was a friend of my college roommate. I’m the one who sent her your way.”
“You—” I blink tears out of my eyes. “But I haven’t heard a word from you since Mom threw me out. I thought…I thought you hated me as much as she did. I thought you agreed with her. That I’m a ‘stain on the Erikson reputation’ or whatever her press release said.”
“I could never hate you.” Flora slumps back in her chair.
“At first…I did blame you, a bit, for the article. I thought you were being selfish and dramatic. I didn’t understand why you couldn’t play nice with Mom.
I kept expecting you to come back. That you’d apologize and things would go back to normal. ”
“Why should I apologize to her?” Anger flares in my chest, but I manage to breathe deep and draw another calming sigil against my thigh. “Mom hated everything about me. Nothing I did was ever good enough. Even without the article, she would have found another reason to kick me out of the family.”
To my surprise, Flora nods. “I always thought you were exaggerating. I knew she was hard on you, but I didn’t realize how bad it was until you were gone.
” She gestures to the office, designed to Nanette’s exact specifications no doubt.
“Anything less than her version of perfection is unacceptable. By the time I realized my mistake, it felt too late to do anything about it. If you want me to talk to her now, though, I absolutely will.”
“No, that’s okay. I have nothing to say to her.
” Silence falls between us, an awkwardness that didn’t exist when we were kids.
In the quiet, memories of all the times Flora’s healing magic hummed through my skin, stitching back together the cuts and other small injuries I couldn’t fix on my own, rise to the surface.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you from this,” I say at last, giving the office another once-over. “You deserved to chart your own course. To be a healer, if that’s what you wanted when you graduated. If I’d done things differently, I could have prevented this.”
“It’s not all bad.” Flora swivels in her chair, a wry grin twisting up her lips. “Did you know this entire department was my idea?”
“Really?” I ask, unable to keep the surprise out of my tone. “Why?”
“Because of you. Mom thinks this office will appease concerned mundanes by limiting the growth of new magic, but that’s not what I’m using it for.
” Her grin grows conspiratorial. “Yes, I’m making sure dangerous magic isn’t running rampant, but this office also lets me expand NACOW’s definition of legitimate magic. It’s slow, but it’s progress.”
“Then why did you deny my application? Why threaten the audit?”
“It hurt, you know.” Flora’s words go soft, but that doesn’t hide the pain in her voice.
“After you left. After Mom threw you out. I kept expecting you to call. Or text. Something to tell me that you weren’t leaving me, too.
That we could be sisters even if our parents weren’t part of your life anymore. ”
“I kept waiting for the same thing.” I tug at the cuff of my suit jacket, unable to meet her eyes. “As the older sister, it should have been me. But what Mom did, what Dad let her do without a single word in my favor…I think I was scared to find out for sure whether you agreed with them.”
Flora nods, the ends of her dark hair swinging forward with the movement.
She looks older than twenty-five. I can’t believe I missed so many years with my sister because I was afraid to ask her what she thought.
That I wasn’t there for her when she had to bear the brunt of Nanette’s unrealistic standards.
I run a hand over my face, surprised when it comes away wet. “Let me make sure I understand this. We didn’t talk for five years because we were both too chickenshit to be the first one to reach out?”
My sister chokes on a laugh. “In our defense, we weren’t raised to talk about something as impractical as feelings. Plus, you went off grid for a while there. I did try calling once, but your number was disconnected.”
“Only because Mom canceled my phone line.”
“And all your social media was gone.”
“Overrun by trolls after that article went live.” I have to laugh, otherwise I’m going to cry. All this pain over a series of missed connections and fear. “You found me eventually, though, if you sent your college friend to me for help.”
Flora nods and dabs a tissue under her eye so she doesn’t smudge her makeup. “Yeah, but by then, I was afraid it was too late.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I say, leaning forward in my chair. “I have no intention of forgiving our parents, and I never want to talk to Nanette again. But you? I would very much like to be part of your life.”
“I’d like that.” The grin she flashes me is the same one she’d use each time she healed one of my injuries growing up. I was wrong before, when I thought my childhood was devoid of unconditional love. I had it in Flora. And now, maybe I have it again.
“Just so I’m clear…” I ask, already delighted by whatever her answer might be. “Is there an issue with the magic we registered for the B&B? Or was all this a ploy to get my stubborn ass to come visit?”
“Can it be both?” Flora pulls out a file from the stack on her desk.
“There aren’t any major red flags with the registration paperwork, but this is new territory.
I need to decide what precedent to set for afterlife employment laws and ensure there are extensive safety precautions for guests.
” My sister smirks, and it’s like we’re teenagers again.
“Plus, you are technically out of compliance with a bunch of other new magic based on what you advertise on your website.”
“This is going to be a long meeting, isn’t it?” I ask with a grin, shifting in my seat to get more comfortable.
“Don’t worry. I can order us lunch on the department’s card.” Flora flips open her file. “Let’s start with these ghost goggles. Tell me everything.”
So I do. I walk my sister through the ghost goggles and the spirit board.
The methods I developed to find and transport ghosts to the B&B.
She asks a million questions, looking for any ethical holes in the magic, and when she gives the application her official Director’s Stamp of Approval, we move on to discuss my other creations.
We spend the most time on my new creativity spell and the introductions Sloane has promised to make with their wealthy friends, connections that will build demand for my work if I impress the right people.
I tell Flora about the enchanted bells I used to hang over my door to alert me to incoming clients and help new arrivals feel at ease.
The soundproofing sigil I mastered at the B&B.
The different version of anti-theft spells that I tailor to each type of business.
I even register the celebration sigil, though it’s a low-level, silly bit of magic.
As my file grows, I’m surprised by how much new magic I’ve created over the past five years.
Flora has her assistant order us lunch, and by the time I’ve successfully registered everything I can remember without checking my grimoire, which I left back at my apartment for safekeeping, we’re both exhausted.
Flora hands off the folder to her assistant for filing and escorts me to the elevator. Enclosed inside, she wraps me in a tight hug. “I’m so impressed with you, Pip. I can’t believe how much you’ve created on your own.”
“Are you kidding? I’m impressed with you. The youngest director in the history of NACOW.” The elevator pings as we reach the lobby, and I pull back. “I hope this is what you want. Don’t force yourself to work here to appease Nanette.”
“I like the work,” she says, though she sounds uncertain. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Call me?” I ask, lingering in the open elevator doorway.
Flora grins. “Every day until you’re sick of my voice.”
I know it’ll take more than a single afternoon to heal everything between us, but as I leave the building and head back into the cold of coming winter, all I feel is hope.