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great-aunt had hated me so, had feared me enough that she would attempt to strip me entirely of magic, and risk Maisie’s well-being by force-feeding it to her.
    The line itself put an end to all that. That day. The line claimed me as an anchor and returned my own magic to me. Now, the only power Maisie had was what naturally belonged to her. Yet even running on partial steam, it seemed, that magic was formidable. In just these few days, under Abby’s guidance, Maisie progressed from zero to creating temporary miniature worlds where she could begin to work through her issues. The same issues that had driven her to offer me up as a sacrifice in an attempt to take over the full power of the line. It was intensive magical therapy, and frankly, when Abigail was through helping my sister, I intended to ask her to help me work on some issues of my own. God knows lately I’d been racking up issues like an overeager Girl Scout collects insignia badges.
    “I think I’d like to stay also,” Ellen said, pulling me from my thoughts. I noticed that she looked neither at Abigail nor myself, but to Iris for permission.
    “We should perhaps have this conversation as a family—” Iris began.
    “No.” Abigail shook her head. “Maisie isn’t ready to talk to the entire family all at once. It’s Mercy she’s done the most harm. Let the girls have a chance to talk things through first, and then we’ll take it from there. You two go on to the store.” Iris and Ellen hesitated, a silent conversation seeming to go on between them.
    “I’m sorry,” Ellen said, “but Maisie tried to kill Mercy. You’re talking like they’ve squabbled over a stained blouse.” If anyone could understand the complexity of my feelings for Maisie, it would be Ellen. Emily, her sister and my mother, had faked her own death largely so she could invent new and creative ways to turn Ellen’s world into a living hell. I knew Ellen would never forgive Emily the harm she’d done. I didn’t blame her. I had come to realize that it is possible for someone to go too far to be forgiven. The best you could do was walk away and pray they didn’t try to follow you. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt my mother had stepped too far over the line.
    Now that Maisie was back, cogent and willing to talk, I had to learn if the same was true of my sister. I had to know for sure that she felt true contrition. That she knew she had done wrong. That she would never hurt me that deeply again. “It’s okay. If she’s ready to talk about what she did, I’m ready to listen.”
    Iris looked to me. “Are you sure you’re up to facing this alone?”
    “Really,” Abigail said, “things will be just fine here. Go on, get—”
    A thought hit me and sapped my reserve. “Wait,” I said, my voice breaking. I felt guilty even bringing it up. I wanted to believe my sister was getting better; I wanted to believe in her. But I had been wrong before. “The timing of this breakthrough . . .”
    Iris nodded and saved me from finishing my thought. “It gives one pause that it follows on the heels of her accomplice’s return.”
    Abigail’s face fell. “Her accomplice?”
    “Wren showed back up today,” I said.
    Abigail’s face pulled into a tight-lipped grimace. “That puts a different complexion on things.” She tilted her head toward Iris. “It never occurred to you that perhaps y’all might want to share this tidbit with me?” Her face grew flushed. “Either I’m one of you, or I’m not.”
    “No.” Iris stepped forward, attempting to draw Abby into an embrace, but Abigail pulled back. “It isn’t like that. Not at all. We would have told you—it’s only that it all just happened.”
    “And you figured you’d catch me up right after you found the right turkey?”
    “Really, Abby.” I crossed to her and embraced her. She accepted my show of affection. “Please don’t think we do not appreciate you.” For good or bad, my hormones decided to choose