10 years ago, the Lawson family disappeared without a trace, seemingly into thin air. Upon the discovery of a hidden room, it reopens a decade later, and Harper Sloann, a low-ranking detective with a fascination for the macabre, takes on the case. I...
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
10 years ago
Grandmother said spells should never be the first thing I run to when it comes to solving my problems. I used to believe her words like religion, but after a while, I questioned. What good was our blood, then, if all we did was cower behind the natural laws of the world? Were we simply meant to accept everything we're handed with, even though we have the power to change it?
We were witches, and Grandmother and Mother kept on warning me not to be one, at least to the rest of the world. At home, magic ran rampant. Teacups flew across the kitchen, knives chopped vegetables and brooms swept the floor by themselves, and even the yard outside watered itself and stayed in full bloom throughout the year.
But whenever guests arrived, Grandmother and Mother would revert back to their boring selves who smiled and served tea as everyone in Windegi did. At least, everyone in our backwater town. There were other witches in Windegi, but the closest family lived two districts and at least a two-hour drive away.
I didn't know what came over me, but after a stupid fight about using and not using my magic in front of other people, I packed up and left. Just like that, I was out. If I wasn't allowed to be a witch the way I wanted to be, then it's better to not be one at all. I would be like the people around me—ordinary, boring, and most importantly, non-magical.
That's how I ended up in Perera. My money—the meager amount I saved up from mowing the neighbors' lawns—ran out somewhere in Stockdole, a lovely town with a homey vibe. I resolved to sleep on the benches and weather the days as best as I could, but a girl sauntered towards me and held her hand out.
"Are you lost?" she asked, her doe eyes melting something inside me, something I didn't have the time nor the circumstance to understand. "Or have you just moved in?"
"Let's say I'm the former," I replied, raising my head to her. Mouse brown hair fell in luscious curls down her arms with her hand still hanging between us. "What would you do?"
She perked up when I took her hand, and she helped up. "I'll invite you to dinner," she said. "Mom whips up mean pizzas every Tuesday."
The prospect of food invited me in. Within the day, I was shuffled into the Lawson circle. As names were overdue, I introduced myself as Harper Sloann. Dorothy Lawson, the girl who found me on the sidewalk, was their eldest daughter. Austin, the devil child who ate leather couches for dinner, was Dorothy's younger brother. Amanda and Nicholas Lawson, the trendy parents of the two siblings, asked me about my hometown.
I told them I ran away from home upfront. They were surprised at first, but they're quick to bounce back. "You know," Mandy, as she made me call her, said. "We have a spare bedroom in the house. Maybe you want to take it? For as long as you need it, of course."
And just like that, I was part of the household. They took me with them, everywhere. I attended Dorothy and Austin's school, and while I enjoyed being with Dorothy in the classes, I didn't like how my mere presence caused her to lose friends because of Austin's devilish antics. The bullying wasn't something I couldn't tolerate, but seeing Dorothy's crestfallen expression every time broke my heart. I didn't know why.
