Page 9 of Death Card

“That’s because you barely graduated, bro!”

The two guys playfully shove each other, sloshing their drinks over the rim in the process, as Lizzie leans closer and lowers hervoice. “You can always change your mind, you know. I’ll help you with your applications—not like you need much help.”

My cheeks burn. “You sound like my aunt. Are you two working together or something?”

“No, but we do both care about you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sometimes I wish they would care a teeny-tiny bit less. It would erase some of my guilt.

Uncle Larry walks past us with a steaming plate of food. “It’s all gonna be gone if y’all don’t make a plate now,” he tosses over his shoulder.

That’s enough of a warning for us.

Gramps stands at the kitchen counter, serving up portions of shrimp gumbo like he cooked it himself. My mouth waters at the sight of all this food: barbecue ribs piled high on a platter, trays of red beans and rice and smothered green beans, an endless supply of bread pudding. I stack my plate with as much food as it can handle and head into the dining room.

The main dining table is reserved for the Elders, but someone managed to squeeze a long folding table and chairs on the other side of the room. The four of us grab seats, narrowly avoiding being exiled to the kids’ table in the living room or outside on the patio.

No one dares eat until Gramps has taken his seat at the head of the main table and picked up his fork.

He glances around the room with an exaggerated look of disbelief. “What in the world are y’all waiting for? Dig in!”

That’s all the instruction anyone needs. Orion dips his spoon into the bread pudding and moans in delight. “Whoever madethis put their foot in it.” He turns to look at me. “Isn’t that what Gran used to say?”

Across the room, Miss Connie’s eyes light up behind her thick bifocals. “Thank you, honey. Good to know I’ve still got it.”

“Yes, ma’am! You certainly do.”

Conversations die down; this food is too good to chitchat.

As forks begin to scrape across empty plates, Gramps’s chair squeals against the floor as he stands. He lifts his glass high, and silence falls over the room.

“I want to thank you all for being here,” he begins. “Despite what Roberta wants you to think, this day isn’t about me one bit. We are gathered here, first and foremost, in remembrance of Adelaide. She loved and adored each and every one of you. We have never only been a coven. We’re a family, and it shows in the fact that you all came out to celebrate her life and death today. I know she is with the ancestors at this very moment looking down on us with pride. May we continue to honor her memory.”

Murmured blessings are thrown around the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Orion swipe a tear away from his cheek. I pretend not to notice as I fight to keep my own eyes dry.

Gramps sips from his glass and clears his throat. “Now it’s time to look toward the future.” His eyes sweep across the room, pinning each person with a keen stare. People sit up straighter when they meet his gaze. The way he commands a room is awe-inspiring.

“We’ve been leaderless for a year now, and while I have stepped into the role temporarily, my time as a leader is coming to a close. With my campaign ramping up in the next few months, Iwon’t have the energy to give this coven the attention it deserves.”

“Tell it, Zeke!” Uncle Larry shouts. “You gon’ save this city!”

More murmurs rise up in agreement.

“We’ll see about that.” Gramps waits for the voices to settle down before he continues. “In any case, I am not the rightful person to lead this coven.” His steady gaze falls on me. “We have always been led by a powerful queen, and that won’t change on my watch.”

Everyone exchanges glances. The room is so silent, I can hear my own breath. Gramps still hasn’t taken his eyes off me. A sinking feeling hits my chest. Beside me, Orion reaches over to grip my wrist.

“My granddaughter is the rightful heir to Adelaide’s title.” One corner of his mouth quirks up in a half smile. “Mikaela will soon take her place as our next Witch Queen.”

Whispers rise from every corner of the room. Unlike before, they are clearlynothappy ones. All eyes are trained on me as my cheeks instantly flush. Orion squeezes my wrist tighter. What’s meant to be a comfort turns into a vise.

An older cousin on Gramps’s side of the family clambers to her feet. “Respectfully, Zeke, she ain’t ready.”

There are more murmurs of agreement.

Across the room, Aunt Roberta’s tawny skin turns a shade of blotchy red. “It doesn’t matter if she’s ready. The power’s in her blood!”

“Is it, though?” someone else asks. “I’ve never seen that girl exert even an ounce of Adelaide’s power.”