Page 105 of The Magic We Made

My parents look kind of surprised to hear this, and I can’t really blame them. I’m in the hospital getting IV fluids, after all, and the lady cop said that unless I cooperate, I might end up in jail for all the terrible things I did.

But I’mhappyto cooperate if it means helping Hecate.

Because as good as my mother’s hug felt, nothing in my life has ever felt as good as Hecate’s hand when it stroked my head.

I know how weird that sounds. But when she touched me, I just knew: I am loved. Gaia is not our enemy. Thereisno enemy. There is only love.

And I need to spread the message of that love as far and as wide as I can.

I feel really sorry for Haley, because she will never know Hecate’s love. She squandered her chance at that. I’m not even sure if Haley was ever a believer. Could she really have been in it only for money?

I did think it was weird that Haley kept asking for “donations.” But it never occurred to me she might be spending those donations on herself—not until they were marching us off the island (in zip ties! Like criminals!), and I got a really good look at that tent. The forest rangers were tearing it apart, I guess to look for clues, but maybe also because camping is illegal at Satan’s Seat.

That’s when I saw the mini fridge Haley said was only supposed to be for her probiotic yogurt was instead filled with meat, processed foods, and alcohol!

All the things Haley told us not to eat because Hecate wants her acolytes to be impurity free were inside that fridge! Not just cake and champagne, either, but hot dogs! And beer! And nacho cheese dip!

It turns out Haley spent all the money we gave her on things for herself, like that tent and mini fridge and even a laptop. That lady cop said Haley’s got millions in an overseas bank account and she was trying to get more by kidnapping poor Mr. Merit.

Haley is lucky to have escaped Hecate with her life... even if it isn’t going to be much of a life, since she’ll probably have to spend it behind bars. Hecate is all loving, but we can’t have people out there doing things in her name that are not only illegal, but immoral.

It’s not totally my fault I did all those bad things, though. The doctor says part of the reason I followed Haley’s orders, even when I knew they were wrong, was because my reasoning was impaired due to sleep deprivation and starvation. It’s a “common practice in cults, to keep members obedient.”

I wanted to object to the use of the term “cult,” but considering everything the doctor says is wrong with me—malnutrition and poison ivy and exhaustion and maybe Lyme disease and some other possible parasitic infections (which, gross)—I think maybe she might be right.

I overheard the doctor tell my parents, “My primary concern for her ismental and emotional. She’s still insisting she saw the Goddess of Witchcraft.”

Then she told Mom and Dad I’m going to need something called exit counseling.

That’s fine. Because I know if I’m truly going to serve Hecate, I need to be as healthy as possible, both physicallyandmentally and emotionally.

Meg and I agree we need to educate ourselves, because there’s a lot of work ahead, and we can’t let what happened with Haley happen again.

But we have to start planning right away. I’m going to need at least a law degree if we’re going to make the kind of world impact we hope to. Meg is going to study biology and chemistry and go for a medical degree.

Fortunately Mom and Dad say that Fordham has agreed to delay my admission, so I can start in January, if I want to.

And I do want to. Meg and I both agree: the best way to serve Hecate going forward isn’t by living off the land, but by educating ourselves to be the most powerful witches we possibly can be, and then get out there and change the world.

I can’t wait to get started.

Frankie

I wake to the cooing of mourning doves.

The pair that nests in the same tree in my yard every year appears to be giving me a farewell performance before flying south for the winter. I lie in bed and listen to them as Ash sleeps on his stomach beside me, naked and dead to the world.

I can tell by the chink of sunlight shining from between my blackout curtains that we’ve slept most of the day away. Judging by the way shadows are falling, it’s past two o’clock in the afternoon. I’m surprised we haven’t been wakened by concerned phone calls from my patients, all of whose appointments I’ve missed... or, worse, visitors, especially from my own family.

Then again, the last thing Jackie said to me as I was wheeling Ash from the hospital was, “Don’t talk to any reporters—especially your sister Cat!”

There seemed to be a general feeling amongst law enforcement that what happened last night might end up being even bigger news than the #WestHarborWitchRiot, although they’ve managed to keep our names out of the press... for now. And I’m fairly certain no one caught Hecate on a cell phone camera.

That’s because you can’t film a hallucination. I know Ash says what happened last night was magic, but now, in the light of day, I know better. It had to have been a hallucination brought on byDatura stramonium.And fortunately, we all survived.

I get out of bed, careful not to wake Ash, and check on Daisy and the kittens. The new mother seems to be doing well. The DeLong boys took good care of her while I was gone. She proudly shows off her babies to me, then rolls over onto her back for belly rubs. I give them to her, listening to all the happy purring coming from the bottom of the laundry basket.

Thisis real.Thisis no hallucination.