“How would you expect me to act when someone I love dearly has gone missing?” She clutches the back of the closest chair. “Please tell me you were not messing in the bokor business.”
I huff. Jerk straight. “It’s my friend, Grandma! Her father has been bewitched. I can’t just ignore that… look the other way.”
“You could at least try to do the sensible thing.” She leans forward. “Stay clear of danger.”
“In her defense,” Michael says, his fingers tapping against the wood of the table. “Her sneaking about appears to have gone unnoticed.”
“And how do you know this to be the case?” Grandma twists to face him and his tapping ceases.
“Because she’s here.” He stretches his arm across the table and motions to me, sitting in the chair. “And she’s unhurt. I don’t think that would be the case had they noticed her.”
This seems to strike some sort of cord with Grandma. Her shoulders relax, and her lips pull into a tight line. She breathes in and out with slow raspy breaths, three times.
“Please do not take this the wrong way,” she says to me. “Luna seems like a very nice girl. But there are rules, an order among the various factions practicing within the Quarter…”
“But we aren’t part of any faction, nor part of the Quarter.” I pitch forward, press into the edge of the table.
“No. We are not.” Grandma’s words are slow and measured. “But we mustn’t turn eyes our way. It would be unwise and potentially devastating, not to mention dangerous, for our family.” Her attention swivels to my brother.
Right. Although it is located at the outermost edge, Michael’s school is technically still within the boundaries of the Quarter. I glance at my brother. My attention quickly shifts to the entry. Miri slips inside, softly closing the front door, and returns to our company, coming to rest against the dining area doorframe.
“We’re not currently on his radar, and I would like to keep it that way,” Grandma says of the bokor and glances between the three of us.
“But we’re not off his radar,” I blurt. “I don’t think we ever have been. Look at Mom and the fire.” I motion to the ceiling in reference to the woman trapped in the room above, then drop my hand and glance at Michael. At the scar cutting across the left side of his face. A result of the fire collapsing the house on him.
All Caleb’s fault.
“You’re referring to Caleb?” Miri’s voice is soft, yet firm. She pushes away from the wall and moves deeper into the room.
“Yes,” I blurt. “He tried to kill us, and now he has control of Mom.” I shake my head. “He was working with, or for, the voodoo priest then and probably still is. A voodoo priest with loose ties to a certain bokor.”
“You can’t know that,” Grandma interjects. “Without knowledge of who has ties to who, this is all speculation. And unless you are involved in their practice, you can’t know the various connections.
“But what if I have connections who are in the know?” I counter, pinning my glare on her.
Grandma frowns and the intensity of her stare softens a smidgen.
“She’s not wrong,” Michael adds.
“Is this what your school is teaching you?” Grandma shifts her weight, and her attention, to my brother. He shrugs, by way of answer. “A hundred years of peace, staying out of the dangerous business of the local practitioners, and now this.” She sighs.
“But that isn’t true, is it?” Michael says. Miri and I both snap our gaze to him. Grandma merely shakes her head, her mouth dropping slightly open. “Dad.”
It’s one word, but it cuts to the core of everyone’s composure.
My father left before I was born and for that reason… and others… he is dead to me. I don’t care what happened to him. But… if it has something to do with the bokor or Caleb or the voodoo priest, and it holds some sort of relevance to the current situation, I will listen. Want to listen.
My eyes widen and I press back, balance my chair on two legs. Grandma’s grip on the back of the chair bleaches of color. Miri lurches forward and slams her hands on the table.
“All these years, and now you’re willing to talk?” Miri’s voice is a collection of cat claws to the side of the face. “Spill. Spill everything you know about Dad.”
Grandma collapses into the chair across from me. “If we are to have learned anything from what happened to your father, it is to stay clear of the business of others. Even the friendliest of so-called collaborations can come back and stab you in the heart.” She presses her hand to her chest.
Weighted by the intensity of her words, Miri, Michael, and I stare at Grandma in silence.
“Would you not want revenge?” Michael’s inquiry slips softly through the stillness.
“No.” Grandma shakes her head. “What I want is for my grandbabies to remain safe from a similar or worse fate.” She pushes to a stand. “I am too old for these late nights or intense arguments. I implore you all to heed my words, stay out of trouble and stay away from the bokor and his men.” She turns and heads from the room. Grabs her cane from its place propped against the wall. “I am going to bed,” she announces.
She exits the dining area and moves into the next room. Bastian bounds into view, weaves back and forth at her feet, meowing. “Yes, I know,” she says to the cat. “The kids are all but determined to get into a heap of trouble.”
Bastian follows her up the stairs.
When Grandma is out of sight, and the sound of her bedroom door has closed, Miri drops into the chair Grandma vacated and pins her gaze on our brother.
“What happened to dad?”
“I don’t know all the details.” He leans back and presses his hands to the side of
