Page 77 of Witchy Woman

Georgette tries to smile at me. “I understand the urge behind wanting to save your mother. I’m not going to pretend I can talk you out of trying. But be careful. While you may go in to save one, many will try to use you as a bridge to get out. You don’t want to let them drag you down.”

“What—” Hazel visibly gulps at my side. “What happens if they drag her down? Dragusdown?”

The woman’s face darkens. “You will lose your sister. She will become a vegetable, as good as dead. A mere shell as her soul is trapped in Hell forever.”

“Lovely,” I wheeze.

It’s not that I thought saving Mom was going to be easy by any means. But risking my own soul to save hers? Feels a bit fucking risky.

But she did it when the roles were reversed. She risked herself for us.

“I appreciate your time, Georgette. Is there anything else you can tell us?” Grandma’s keeping it together, but I can see she’s barely holding on to sanity right now. She has to make a choice between risking me or losing her daughter forever. And not just losing her, losing her to Hell. A fate much worse than anyone deserves.

Georgette leans back in her chair, crinkle crackling all the way. “Be careful. Be smart. And don’t follow the glowing lights, no matter how warm they may be.”

‘Don’t follow the glowing lights’plays over and over again in my head as we drive home in silence.

No matter how warm.

I don’t think I even want to know what the lights are. Or what that means. No, I can pretty much guarantee I want nothing to do with any of that nonsense.

Don’t follow the glowing lights.

Even as Belle greets me at the door and the house moans and groans as we enter, that phrase repeats itself.

What kind of lights are in Hell? Other than fire, of course, but I get the distinct feeling that’s not what she was talking about.

Hazel keeps trying to pretend she’s not staring at me, but I’m so wrapped up in my own head that I don’t have the energy to call her out on it.

The three of us congregate in the living room almost by habit, coming together I’m sure to discuss what the fuck we just learned.

Which is that I’m most likely risking my life to save a woman who barely gave a shit about us. Who sacrificed her life for Noah. Who is also our mother.

Wild.

“Maybe there’s another way,” Hazel finally says, breaking the silence in the way only she can. “Maybe we don’t have to put Laura at risk to save Mom.”

The desperate, pleading eyes she throws to Grandma even have me feeling guilty, and I’m not the intended party.

Grandma shakes her head. “Saving people from Hell is not something done. Ever. It’s not written about, it’s not referenced, it’s simply not done. If there were another way, we would know.”

“But we didn’t even know Laura was hearing souls! Maybe there’s more to this witchy shit than the books know.”

“Or maybe...” I clear the panic out of my throat. “Maybe nobody as strong as me, or as strong as Mom, has come around before. Maybe this situation hasn’t happened before and we’re the guinea pigs. Maybe we have to figure this out for ourselves.”

Hazel’s face falls, hope seeping out of her faster than I’d like.

I sit taller, putting on my armor of false confidence I’m so familiar with. “Maybe we have to decide if risking me is worth the possibility of bringing her back.”

“But that’s not fair!” Hazel screams. The door to the backyard slams open in a furious gust of wind that rattles the hinges. Grandma puts her hand on Hazel’s, trying to calm her.

I shake my head because no, no it’s not fair. But it is what it is.

We sit in silence after Hazel’s outburst. I’ve already decided I’m saving her. That note solidified it. The fact that I’m risking my life doesn’t change anything.

“You won’t do it. If this is a democracy, then I vote no,” Hazel whispers. “If we risk you and it doesn’t work, then all we’ve done is lose both of you. And she isn’t worth it.”

“This isn’t a democracy. We may be a family, but I’m the one taking the risk, so I’m the one who gets to decide.” I make eye contact with my sister. The person who really tried to protect me for all these years. “And I know I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t try.”