✓ 𝐖.𝐈.𝐓.𝐂.𝐇. | ʜᴏᴄᴜꜱ ᴘᴏᴄᴜꜱ

𝗲𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

"WHERE'S BINX?"

I let go of Theo's hand and frantically scanned the clearing, my heart racing. Deep down, I was hoping—no, praying—that he was finally at rest. That he had found peace. But another part of me couldn't bear the thought of it. I needed him here. He was a piece of my family, a thread that connected me to everything I had left.

"Binx?" we called out again, but there was no answer. No familiar meow.

Dani ran ahead, panic evident in her movements. She pushed on Binx's lifeless body, tears streaming down her face. "Come on, Binx, wake up. Please," she sobbed, trying to revive him with desperate hands.

No. No, he couldn't be gone. Not now.

"He's gone, Dani," Allison said softly, her voice cracking as she crouched beside him, placing a gentle hand on his fur.

Dani shook her head furiously, her hands still pressing against Binx's body, unwilling to accept the truth. "But he can't die. Remember! He... he can't!" Her voice was almost frantic, but it was hopeless. He should have come back by now.

I sank to my knees beside Dani, my hands hovering over Binx's still body. I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't. He had lived for so long, fought so hard to protect us, and now he was just... gone?

I pulled Theo into an embrace, my sobs muffled against his chest. He was the only other connection I had to my past, to the part of me that was still tied to the unknown. Without him, I felt lost. I didn't know who I was anymore—where I was from. My history, which once felt close, seemed so distant now.

"Come on," a voice broke through my sorrow.

I turned my head away from Theo, blinking through the tears. "Binx? Is that you?"

Standing there, in the middle of the cemetery, was a human form—tall, slender, and dressed in strange clothes. He was barefoot, standing with an ethereal presence, as if he didn't quite belong in this world. And he resembled Theo... a lot. Only the faintest trace of a connection, but I knew without a doubt that this was someone from our past.

He nodded and chuckled softly, the sound warm and familiar. "Yeah, it's me."

I couldn't stop myself. I wanted to throw myself into his arms, to hug him and ask him everything. There were so many questions I had about my family. About Rebecca. About who I really was.

"The witches are dead," he said with a broad grin. "My soul's finally free."

I wiped my tear-streaked face, trying to steady my breath. "But... my family. I need to know more. Where do I come from? Who are my ancestors?"

He smiled gently, but there was something comforting about the way he looked at me. "And you will," he assured me, his voice calm but sincere. I wasn't sure if I believed him yet. There was so much left unanswered.

He turned to Max, who had been silent through all of this, and nodded at him. "Thanks for lighting the candle."

Before anyone could respond, a small voice echoed from the trees—a girl's voice, faint but unmistakable. "Thackery!"

Thackery's head snapped toward the sound, his eyes wide with hope, and then a soft laugh escaped his lips.

"Is that you, my love?" Another voice joined in, the voice of a girl who sounded so familiar, even though I didn't know why.

Thackery's face lit up, a grin spreading across his features. "It's them!" he called out, his voice filled with joy. "Rebecca and Emily!"

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before us. Thackery, our beloved Binx, was moving toward the two figures now emerging from the shadows of the trees. They were girls—one with red, bushy hair and the other with a more delicate, pale face. Their smiles were wide, and I could see the bond between them, a connection that stretched beyond the grave.

"Thackery Binx," the girl with red hair said, her voice teasing but filled with affection. "What took thee so long?"

Thackery smiled apologetically as he took both of their hands in his, his voice soft and full of love. "I'm sorry, Rebecca. I had to wait 300 years for a virgin to light a candle."

The redhead shook her head, a playful expression crossing her face. "My sisters were always a nuisance, my love."

"Sisters?" I muttered under my breath, the words barely escaping me as I pieced it together. "Then that means I'm a..."

"Sanderson?" the redhead interrupted, her eyes narrowing as she looked directly at me, the weight of her words landing like a hammer.

I froze, my blood running cold at the sound of her accusation. A Sanderson. The very name I had tried so hard to distance myself from. The witches, the dark legacy, it all came rushing back in a flood. Was this true? Was I truly tied to that bloodline?

"Rebecca?" I whispered, my voice trembling as I looked between the two girls and Thackery. "Is it... really true?"

Thackery looked at me, a mixture of sorrow and understanding in his gaze. "It's true," he said softly. "Your blood runs through them. You're one of us."

And just like that, the world shifted beneath me. I had thought my family history was buried, forgotten, but now, it seemed like the past had come rushing back to claim me. The Sanderson name—the witches who had caused so much destruction—had a connection to me, to my very being.

"I never knew," I said, my voice shaky, trying to process the enormity of it all. "I never wanted to be."

Thackery smiled gently, his eyes full of compassion. "It doesn't define you. It's your choices that matter, not your bloodline. You have the power to decide who you want to be, what legacy you'll leave behind."

I nodded, swallowing hard. The weight of my ancestry was heavy, but it was also freeing in a way. I could rewrite my story. I could change it.

And as I watched Thackery, Emily, and Rebecca walk away together, disappearing into the light, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't bound to the past after all.

My future—our future—was still in our hands.