Page 62 of Spell Ya Later

Grandma hands me my phone from her pocket. “I texted him for you. I told him you weren’t feeling well and were going tocrashat your grandma’s house. He has checked in a few times and I’ve kept him updated. He’s quite the sweetheart.”

“Thank you. I won’t ask how you got past my password.”

“Best not to.” She pats my leg underneath the blanket. “When you’re feeling up to it, we really should discuss what happened.”

I blow out a dramatic breath. “Must we?”

“We must.”

“If we must, can we do it later? The cold shoulder from Mom gave me freezer burn.”

Grandma chuckles. “Of course. Rest up.”

She leaves me alone with my phone, closing the door behind her. I want to text Noah but the combination of the peppermint tea, the concussion, and the warm bed is too tempting to resist.

The next timemy eyes flutter open, the sun sits lower in the sky. Not exactly dusk, but it’s long past noon. A few hours then. Rosie sleeps at the end of the bed like a little watch-cat, keeping me safe.

I’d be surprised if Laura were still here. The look in her eyes haunted my dreams during my brief nap. The way she reared back as if I had physically struck her with my words.

She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t get that I couldn’t turn my back on those kids, even to get proper help. She doesn’t get that it felt good—despite the fact I almost died—to have a purpose. Even for one moment.

To know that what I was doing was the right thing.

I sigh, shaking my head. There are some things we may never see eye to eye on.

It sucks that she doubts how much I love her. That she doubts how much she means to me. I would do anything for her. I’mtryingto help her. I’m trying to get stronger so I can find this daemon who killed our chance at being a true, happy family. I’m doing this for her.

A nagging voice in the back of my head says I’m doing this for myself.

Maybe it’s both.

Noah: I miss you.

Noah: How are you feeling? It’s been almost a week and I’m not going to lie, I’m worried about you.

What up, soulmate? God, I haven’t even seen him since that revelation. But explaining my magic, my history, and our soulmate status to Noah is at the bottom of my list right now. He deserves to know, but I honestly don’t even know where to begin with that.

It’s a conversation that’s just going to have to wait until I can actually sit up without wincing.

Hazel: I miss you, too. This flu is a nasty one, but I’m on the up and up. Hopefully I can see you next weekend.

Granted, by next weekend I’ll still have bruises, cuts, and whatever else is under these sheets that I’m too scared to look at. Lord knows Noah will have an opinion on that.

Hi honey. Oh, these bruises? Cuts? Slashes? Scars? They’re nothing. Just remnants of the flu.

That’ll go over well.

Noah: Whenever you’re ready. I just appreciate you keeping me updated. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. Nonna Ricci makes a badass chicken noodle soup.

I have the best soulmate. Truly.

“How are you feeling?” The door to the bedroom opens, revealing Grandma holding a tray. She’s loaded it with her own chicken noodle soup and a steaming mug of tea.

I shrug, the movement making me wince. “I think that’s answer enough.”

She smiles, placing the tray on my lap. She assists me until I’m sitting up against the pillows resting against the wood headboard.

“Grandma, can witches do glamours?”