The Cost of Conjuring: A Bargain Beyond Blood

21. No wonder I mess up so much having this as a role model

It's a relief no one can see me as I ride the train and then the subway back to the apartment. But for some reason, the few passengers seem to gravitate towards me. Settling down in the seats closest to me and looking around like they're confused about how they got there.

Is this the work of the spell? How Li managed to find me so fast?

I'm drenched again and the cold cuts deeper after getting warmed and dried by the magic. The pink shirt has lost all its coziness and is sticking to me like the thoughts in my head.

Behind the growing worry Cera or Li got trapped or disappeared in whatever disaster my magic caused, and the unstoppable loop of "How could she do this to me?", are Li's words about Grandma. He said it just to keep me from leaving, I know that. But that doesn't mean it's not a good question.

I never thought about how the book ended up on the living room table that night. Did Grandma really forget to put it away? What was she even doing with it in the first place? I've never asked her. I just hid the book afterward, telling her Cera burned it to a crisp. She did that to a lot of things so it was a very convincing lie. Or so I thought. She's obviously been searching for it.

I roll the old silver coin between my fingers. Thinking about Nina and Dan and Elf A. Maybe Cera and Li did the right thing going behind my back. It's not like I deserve their loyalty after everything I've done. Everyone I sent to another world, probably to their death. It's only a matter of time before Alice finds out what I did as well and then I'll be truly alone.

The door to the apartment takes pity on me and opens without any fuss. The familiar scent and fake voices from the TV hit like a punch in the gut but they're also strangely soothing.

Grandma doesn't look up from her armchair as I close the door, but of course, she hears me.

"Didn't think you were coming back," she mutters, sounding more tense than usual.

From the entryway, I catch sight of the back of the armchair and her left arm draped over the armrest. Even at this distance, I can make out the wrinkles and stains marring the sleeve of her beige dress.

"I just need to get some things. Have they been back?"

"No." She still doesn't turn her head and look at me. Not that she would see anything.

The tower of empty plastic containers has grown and toppled over, leaving half of them in a heap on the floor and bits of food slowly becoming one with the gray carpet.

I don't bother removing my boots since I'll leave again in a minute, and some rainwater might actually improve the state of the carpet.

The living room is dark except for the flickering light from the TV. It hits the pictures on the walls like old gargoyles in a thunderstorm. Unnatural smiles ready to break any second. My own ten-year-old face looks so stupid and naive I want to throw something at it.

Grandma still doesn't move, her eyes glued to the bright screen where some over-the-top game show is going on. People in colorful clothes are answering questions and laughing way too much.

There's something wrong with the way Grandma sits. Too still and too straight. And the skin around her eyes is taut, like she's concentrating. Something is definitely wrong.

I hesitate, and instead of turning around and start up the stairs as I should, I take another step into the living room, my wet boots sinking into the dusty carpet.

I feel it at the same time she relaxes. Something heavy settles in my stomach as the concealment trickles down my body, leaving me fully visible. Grandma finally turns in her chair, her face lined with emotions, some familiar and some not.