Pentacle

Broken Truths and Broken... Walls?

"Might Tabatha fancy another spot of tea?" Harper asked Zinny, her voice adopting a playful, exaggerated British accent.

Zinny leaned toward her doll, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she gave several emphatic nods before turning back to Harper. "No, but she'd fancy another crumpet," Zinny replied, mimicking Harper's accent and pointing to the nearly empty plate of cookies.

"I'm not sure your mom would want you having another cookie," Harper said, dropping the accent and returning to her normal voice.

"It's not for me, it's for Tabatha!" Zinny insisted, crossing her arms with an indignant huff.

"Fine," Harper sighed, giving in and handing Zinny one of the last two cookies.

Nibbling on the last cookie, Harper's attention drifted to the door Jace and Acacia had slipped through, obviously intent on eavesdropping. Harper couldn't fathom why anyone would want to listen in on a conversation they weren't invited to. It simply wasn't right. She suspected Jace had never cared about doing the right thing a day in his life, but Acacia's actions might've stemmed from the pain of losing her parents.

As she munched on her cookie, Harper decided Acacia needed someone to remind her how decent people respected others' privacy. She glanced at Zinny, who pretended to feed Tabatha some cookie pieces before enjoying it all for herself.

"Stay here. I'll be back," Harper instructed, heading toward the dining room.

Like every other space she'd encountered in the house, the room was grandiose. Tall windows with sections of stained glass adorned one wall, allowing sunlight to flood in and bathe the room with a warm, natural radiance. At the heart of the space stood a long wooden table, its legs intricately carved with floral patterns, surrounded by soft-cushioned chairs.

But it was the breathtaking chandelier that truly captivated Harper. Dangling above the table, its myriad crystals caught and scattered the sunlight, amplifying the lavishness of the room. Warm, gilded wallpaper wrapped the room, with China cabinets and dressers filling every available wall space. Harper imagined them filled with exquisite cloth napkins and gleaming silverware. Four entrances led into the room, including the one Harper had just entered through. One door led to a parlor framed by a stunning stained-glass archway, while the other two opened into the foyer across from the living room.

Harper frowned in disapproval at Acacia and Jace, who were pressed against the partially open door, straining to catch bits of the adults' conversation.

"Spying is wrong, you guys," Harper chastised from the kitchen doorway.

"Shhh!" they hissed in unison, shutting the door just long enough to make sure the adults hadn't hear them.

"I'm not sure, but I think eavesdropping is a sin," Harper added, trying to appeal to their consciences.

"Give it a rest, Mary," Jace retorted, rolling his eyes.

"If they didn't want us listening, they'd talk softer," Acacia reasoned, her attention drifting back to the commotion in the living room.

"Besides, not all of us can be satisfied playing tea party," Jace smirked at her. "That requires a very special type of person."

"Guys, please, reconsid—"

"Shut up or leave, Mary," Acacia snapped, closing her eyes, hoping it would sharpen her hearing like it had in the past.

Harper bared her teeth, her fists clenching and unclenching in frustration. "Fine, but don't whine to me when you're burning in damnation," she shot back, folding her arms.