As Stella descended the staircase, wrapped in the comfort of a warm hoodie, she caught sight of Mallory reclining on the couch with a massive bowl of popcorn in her lap. Her friend's usual steely expression softened ever so slightly, though the raised eyebrow hinted at her skepticism.
"Thought you wanted to watch Vampire Diaries," Mallory commented, her tone deadpan but her gaze unwavering. The idea of Mallory—cold, unfazed Mallory—enduring a show centered on romance was almost comical. Stella's lips twitched into a smile.
"You're really sure?" Stella asked, still half-expecting Mallory to roll her eyes and change her mind. But Mallory simply gave a nod, her expression unreadable yet oddly reassuring.
As Stella settled in beside her, she scanned the room, finally noticing the absence of their grandmother. "Where's Gigi?" she asked, tossing a curious glance Mallory's way.
"She mentioned meeting a friend," Mallory replied casually. "And I'm guessing it's about… everything that happened yesterday. Tried to get more out of her, but you know Gigi. She left before I could ask." Her tone was casual, almost dismissive, but Stella knew Mallory better than that. Beneath the unflappable exterior, there was a subtle glint of concern.
Stella sighed, sensing a weight to the morning despite their efforts to make things feel normal. "Well, let's dive into this vampire drama then," she said, feigning excitement as she plopped down next to Mallory, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl.
As the opening credits began to roll, the room filled with the quiet sounds of the show and the occasional crunch of popcorn, a fragile sense of peace settling around them. For a brief moment, as they exchanged silent glances, they could almost forget the shadows lurking just beyond their doorstep.
The two elderly women sat across from each other in Agatha's cozy but ancient living room, the scent of old books and dried herbs filling the air. Agatha Evarhart, the formidable principal of Stella and Mallory's college, leaned back with a troubled expression, her piercing gaze fixed on her longtime friend. She folded her arms, her posture betraying both her concern and her anger. Shadows flickered over Agatha's stern face as she stared at Elizabeth, her friend of many years, with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal.
"You seriously kept this from me, Liz?" Agatha's voice was laced with hurt and simmering anger. "All these years… I never knew Mallory was a witch. And Stella…a mermaid?" Her eyes bore into Elizabeth, seeking an explanation that could make sense of the secrets that had fractured their trust.
Elizabeth's gaze dropped to her hands, twisting the edge of her shawl. "Agatha," she murmured, her voice tinged with both remorse and fierce protectiveness. "You know the complications we face in this world. I had to keep it from everyone to protect them. The fewer people who knew, the safer they were."
Agatha's hands clenched tightly, white-knuckled, against her lap. "Liz, I'm not just anyone. You know I would've stood by them." Her tone softened as she added, "You may have raised them, but they're as much my family as they are yours."
Elizabeth's eyes shone, but her gaze remained firm. "I'm not their mother by blood, Agatha," she whispered, her voice trembling yet resolute, "but they are my daughters in every way that matters. I have poured every ounce of my willpower into protecting them. This world—our world—is dangerous, and I won't let it take them from me."
Agatha's face softened as she placed a gentle hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, her voice wavering with emotion. "I know, Liz. I know what it's like to lose family." Her words faltered for a moment, and Elizabeth reached for her hand, the sorrow in their shared glance unmistakable. "And I won't let you go through that pain alone."
Elizabeth's eyes lingered on her friend, a flicker of gratitude mixed with the steely resolve of a woman who had endured far more than anyone knew. "One day, Agatha," she said, her voice like a quiet vow, "we will find out what happened to Antonette. One day, the truth will come to light. And when it does… I'll be ready."
Agatha let out a breath, composing herself, and shrugged away the cloud of old grief that had settled between them. Her voice was brisk but filled with a hidden tenderness as she asked, "So, tell me everything, Liz. No more secrets this time."
Elizabeth took a deep breath, then began unraveling the tangled web of mysteries surrounding her granddaughters. She spoke of the voodoo doll, the pile of ash, the unknown enemy closing in, and the potential dangers lurking around every corner.
As she spoke, Agatha's eyes hardened, her jaw set. The two women, bound by years of loyalty, sorrow, and love, shared a look of understanding. Whatever darkness was coming, whatever forces were conspiring against them, they would face it together.
This was not just a quiet conversation between friends—it was an unbreakable pact, forged in loyalty and bound by a fierce love for the young women they would do anything to protect.
After sharing the details, a heavy silence lingered before Agatha broke it. "First, there are three things we must do," she said, her voice steady but resolute. "We'll need to perform a cloaking spell to keep Stella hidden from any prying eyes. Then, we must cast the Soulrend Spell on her—it's essential for uncovering the truths buried deep within her being. And with some of her blood, we can perform the Kindred Spell to discover more about her family's lineage."
Elizabeth nodded, her mind racing with the implications of each step. "And the last thing?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
"Before we proceed with any of this, we must put a Guardian Spell in your home," Agatha replied, her gaze intense. "It will act as a protective barrier, keeping malevolent forces at bay."
Elizabeth's heart pounded, but she hesitated. "Before we do any of that," she said, her voice tinged with urgency, "there's one more thing I need from you."
Agatha raised an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and concern flooding her expression. "What is it?"
"I want you to move into my house," Elizabeth said, her voice steady but laced with a sense of urgency.