Life's A Witch

Chapter Eleven

When I made it back downstairs, I noticed a group of about five sitting in the corner and became curious. A girl named Emory was in the middle of it all and she had the other kids listening to her with rapt attention. I had to admit, I didn't know Emory very well at all. I think she went to even fewer meetings than I did and seemed to almost blend into her surroundings. Not to say she wasn't pretty, though; with a full head of wavy red hair and eyes that appeared thoughtful, she was your average girl next door.

What I had noticed about her was that she wore a lot of flowery clothes: shirts with daisies on them, lilac-adorned jumpers, ballet flats topped with roses. She looked fresh off Little House on the Prairie. That is, if the prairie were run by witches, of course.

In the past, she'd seemed more of a listener than a talker, but here she was, commanding a small audience. Because of this, I decided it was about time I got to know her and some of the others a little better. After all, we were going to be squished together in this cabin for an indeterminate amount of time. And it was best to know all my allies.

I watched from a distance as Emory talked quietly to the others. Intrigued by what it was she could be saying, I eventually wandered over to where she sat.

"What we fail to remember in times like these is that the dead aren't ever truly gone," she was saying in a soft, soothing voice. "They're around us all the time. Watching. Keeping us safe. Guiding us to the next right action. So see, in that respect, this isn't the end. We just need to be open to hearing the messages they have for us and keeping their memories alive. Because it is by tapping in to their power that we honor them."

I was surprised by what she was saying, but not because I didn't believe her; I knew from my own dream of my mom that our parents weren't completely gone. What took me aback was the fact that it was coming from this particular girl. Hers was more than just a faith in life after death. There was no doubt in my mind that Emory was speaking from experience.

"Is my dad here now? Can you see him?" a young girl asked. The hope in her voice was palpable and I had to slow my breathing to keep from getting upset.

Emory nodded. "Of course he's here," she said with a smile. The girl returned the grin and I could tell that it had been enough to make her feel better.

"Does he have a message for me?" she asked, her voice squeaking as she squirmed in her seat.

"He loves you and is very proud of you," Emory answered, a faraway look on her face. "He wants you to be careful and says it's important that you listen to everything Hadley says. She knows what she's doing and she will get us through this."

"Can you tell him I will? And that I love him?" the girl said in a voice barely above a whisper. She paused then, as if she was debating saying something else. Before she could finish though, Emory cut in.

"He knows that you're sorry, Anna," Emory said gently. "And he's sorry too. He doesn't want you to be sad about this. You're his greatest creation."

A single tear dropped down Anna's face. I thought maybe her heart was breaking at first, but then I realized that what I was witnessing was a healing moment. Letting out a little sniffle, Anna got up and gave Emory a big hug and then headed out of the room and into the sunny yard beyond the door.

"Why don't you guys go and get something to eat, head outside, and take it easy for a bit?" Emory suggested to the kids captivated in front of her.

I watched as the group dispersed, all looking a lot better off than they had since we'd broken the news to them. I felt major respect for this girl I barely knew, and vowed to take our time at the cabin to get to know the rest of my coven. I was starting to learn that nothing—or no one—was what they seemed.