plan the next year’s activities. While there I decided to clean out the closet in the guest bedroom, and I came across Mother’s hats. I’d never even opened the boxes. I was in a nostalgic mood that day, so I took all the boxes down from the shelf and opened them up, one by one. Underneath her favorite purple hat-you remember the one she got in London?”
“Yes, I do.” The bittersweet memories brought tears to Angelique’s eyes. She remembered their mother wearing that hat. It was a pretty hat, purple velvet with yellow feathers sticking straight up. But Mother had claimed she loved it best out of all her hats. In fact, she’d made a pointed effort to tell Angelique to take her hats. Angelique had brushed it off, knowing how much Izzy had loved Mother’s hats, so she’d let her sister have them.
Maybe Mother had made that request because she never intended for Isabelle to find the diary. She’d wanted Angelique to find it, to read it, to understand and possibly help her sister.
“The diary was tucked inside the purple hat,” Isabelle continued. “I had no idea what it was, so I opened it up and started reading it. I was so surprised that Mother kept a diary. I never knew.”
“Neither did I.”
“I sat on the floor and read the entire thing, cover to cover. And then I read it again.”
“You’re certain it’s genuine.”
Isabelle nodded. “It’s our mother’s handwriting without a doubt. I don’t need to have it authenticated. Besides, no one had access to the hatboxes except you and me. We took possession of her things right after she died, and I brought the boxes to my apartment, where they’ve been ever since.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Isabelle? Why didn’t you call me right away when you found it?”
Isabelle frowned, rubbed two fingers across her brow. “And tell you what? That we were children of a demon? I wasn’t sure you’d believe me, and why would I share that burden with you? I wish I didn’t know.”
Angelique leaned forward and clasped her hands together. “We’re sisters, Iz. We’re family. You didn’t have to bear this burden alone.”
“I tried not to think about it at all. I shoved the diary in my luggage and went back to work. But eventually I read it again. And then I read it every night, questioning myself, questioning Mother, my entire life. Some of the things Mother said about me in there-Angie, I don’t even remember doing those things.”
Angelique moved to Isabelle’s chair, crawling into it, folding her sister into her arms. She hugged her close and brushed her hand over her hair. “Oh, Izzy. I’m so sorry. I wish you had told me.”
She rocked her sister for a few minutes, reminded of their childhood, of holding each other in the dark when one of them had nightmares.
“It’s not you, Angie. You’re not bad. It’s me.”
Angelique pulled back, searching Isabelle’s face. “What?”
“I’m evil. Mother said so.”
“No, she didn’t say that.”
“Yes, she did. She wanted you to watch me. She said I was dark. She was worried about me. I’m the bad twin, you’re the good twin.”
“That’s not true at all. I think Mother was worried about your unorthodox methods of archaeology. You know she was a purist. She wanted to make sure you didn’t besmirch the family name by raising the
Isabelle laughed. “Probably. Though I can’t help but think she suspected I had an evil streak.”
“You did pull my hair a lot.”
“Because you were such a Goody Two-shoes.”
Angelique grinned. “And you were a brat.”
“You were just jealous because you didn’t know how to be bad.”
“Oh, I think when the two of us got together, we could be very, very bad.”
Isabelle giggled, the same way she used to when they were little. “So true.”
Now that Isabelle’s spirits were lightened, it was time to keep her positive and upbeat. “See? There’s nothing different about you, Izzy. Or about me.” Though that wasn’t necessarily true. She just wasn’t ready to tell Isabelle about what had happened to her at the cottage, about how she’d changed.
“We can’t deny our parentage.”
“No, but having demon blood doesn’t define who we are. There are people within the Realm of Light who have demon blood. And they’ve learned to live with that side of themselves.”
Isabelle looked away. “I’m not sure I can. Now that I know what I am, I realize that what I had always felt inside me could be this demon blood.”
“What do you mean?”
Her sister pushed off the chair and walked to the window, fingering the drape pulls. “I’ve always felt. . different.” She turned and looked at Angelique. “Haven’t you?”
“No.”
“Well, I have. And Mother always watched me. She looked at me differently than she looked at you.”
Angelique rose and walked to the window, drawing open the drapes to let the sunlight in. “That’s because you were always in trouble, brat.”
Isabelle’s lips lifted in a wry smile. “It was more than that. There’s something inside me, Angie. Something
