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And another. Now . . . talk.
    â€œYeah, fine. I think I’m just really tired.”
    Ivy doesn’t believe me, but she drops it.
    I don’t listen to the rest of the headmistress’s announcement. Certain words penetrate my obsessive thinking.
    â€œDance . . . booths . . . crafts . . . contests . . . Riley.”
    I need air. And water. I need to think. I need air and water and space to think.
    She’s still talking when I turn to Ivy. “I’m going to step out for just a second.”
    I walk out of the room, prepared to face the consequences of leaving without permission. In the middle of the headmistress’s announcement, no less. I’m sure I broke at least 329 rules.
    When I’m safely outside the dining room doors, I walk to the entrance foyer.
    Breathe.
    I stop at the huge framed pictures and look at the image of Dannabelle Grimm, the last witch at Dowling with the gift of inheritance. Until me. I’ve been drawn toDannabelle since the first day I saw the picture, and even now, looking at her picture, I feel connected to her.
    Dannabelle’s eyes sparkle with mischief, and I envy her. I envy her confidence. Miss A tells me I’ll get there one day, but I don’t see how. In a million years I could never be like Dannabelle. I really think the gift of inheritance is wasted on me.
    â€œDon’t be silly,” a voice says behind me.
    I spin, breath held. The headmistress. I really have to watch what I’m thinking.
    She laughs. “You’ll learn how to control that, too,” she says.
    I nod, unconvinced.
    â€œI saw you leave during my announcement. Is everything okay?” she asks.
    â€œF-forgive me, Headmistress,” I stammer. “I wasn’t feeling well.”
    The headmistress looks at the image of Dannabelle behind me. “She’s quite a legacy to follow.”
    Deep sigh. “You’re telling me.”
    â€œThe gift of inheritance comes with great responsibility, Hallie.”
    Her voice is stern, almost accusatory, contradicting the smile glued to her face.
    Is that a question? Do I reply? I finally manage to say, “Yes, ma’am.”
    Awkward silence hangs between us.
    â€œControlling your gift will require considerably more time and practice than for other gifts. In fact, I’d say you will carry the heaviest out-of-classroom work.”
    This isn’t news to me. “Miss A has prepared me for that.”
    â€œI would hate to see you fall behind because you’re distracted.”
    â€œI am not easily distracted, Headmistress.”
    She smiles coldly. “I have noticed, Hallie. In fact, I admire your tenacity.”
    Somehow the words coming out of her mouth don’t feel like a compliment.
    â€œThank you,” I say anyway.
    â€œThe point I’m trying to make,” the headmistress says, same plastic smile on her face, “Is that I hope you will be careful about committing yourself to activities, or people, outside of school. Particularly boys.”
    Is this about Cody? “No worries, ma’am. I don’t antici­pate that being a problem for me.”
    â€œThat’s so good to hear,” she says, putting her hand on my shoulder. “If you were to be distracted . . .” Her eyes are dark and sharp and scary. “Well, I suppose I should be going. There’s much to plan for our celebration.”
    Before I can say good-bye, she’s gone, the scent of ginger lingering where she stood.
    Girls begin filling the hallway, dinner done. I watch each girl pass, wishing I had the same excited smile on my face that they do.
    But I can’t smile. I can’t.
    It’s impossible to smile when the most powerful person in your life threatens you.

Seven
    I don’t sleep a full minute that night, and climb out of bed exhausted. I didn’t tell Ivy what had happened with the headmistress. She’d insist I tell Miss A. And for now I like pretending it