Cursed Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series Carissa Andrews (read along books txt) 📖

to atone for my sins? Or was she leading me to my death, in order to consume the mistakes of my ancestors?

Chapter 7

Lies

I stare at the red thread, unable to force my mind to make my body move. Instead, nervous energy rolls through me and I bend over, sucking in the crisp winter air as if my life depends on it. And I suppose it does.

“Are you okay, Dru?” Wade asks, kneeling beside me.

I shake my head. “No, I’m really not.”

He rubs a circle on my back, leaning in close and providing the kind of comfort only he can offer.

“I would have followed her anywhere. Had you not snapped me out of it—who knows what would have happened?” I say, wiping at the side of my mouth to keep from being sick. Slowly, I stand up. The red thread flutters in the breeze, taunting me to free it from the stone fingertips.

Reaching out, I tug it free, and crumple it up in the palm of my hand.

“The Moirai are getting more relentless. It’s a good thing we’re here to get answers,” Wade says, circling his gaze around the cemetery. “It’s so strange. I have so many mixed feelings about this place.”

I follow his stare to the columbarium where his grandfather’s ashes would have resided—had they not risen as a revenant.

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” I whisper.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he says, wrapping his right arm around my shoulder. “Maybe your mom is home now.”

Taking a deep breath, I pull out my phone to see if she’s tried to get in touch. There are no messages. Scrunching my face, I put the phone back and trudge out of the cemetery.

This place used to be my favorite location in all of Mistwood Point. It was the one place where I felt safe. But now, it’s as if my family legacy has triggered nothing but apprehension for it instead.

Our footsteps together are much slower than on the way into the graveyard. Wade slides his arm down, interlocking his hand in mine. For a few minutes, we walk in silence, listening to the sound of our shoes crunching on the snowy sidewalk.

The lamp posts have sprung to life, illuminating the walkways and guiding us back the way we came. The businesses on this edge of town begin to dwindle as it fades back into the more residential part. The majority of the houses now have lights on inside, where the businesses have turned dark.

As we pass by the small Mistwood Community Center, a grouping of about ten women and two men filter out the doors. They all chat among themselves as they pull their jackets in tighter against their chins when they meet the winter wind.

One guy hikes a gym bag up on his shoulder. “See you ladies on Tuesday. Have a good weekend, Ted,” he says, waving. “Merry Christmas.”

The rest of them look up, each responding with a slight wave of their own.

“Merry Christmas,” most respond back.

I catch the eye of one of the women and she stops dead in the middle of her stride. “Autumn?”

“Mom?” I say, picking up my step to reach her.

“What are you two doing here? Did I know you were meant to be here tonight?” she asks, looking flustered.

I shake my head. “No, it was meant to be a surprise.”

Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t respond.

“So, surprise,” Wade offers, doing jazz hands for effect.

Mom’s hazel eyes flit from me to him as she shakes away her surprise and smiles. “Well, I’d give you both a hug, but I just got done with Pilates class. So, you might want to take a raincheck until after my shower.”

“I didn’t know you were taking Pilates,” I say, surprised. She’s always liked to work out, but doing anything that involves sweating around others is definitely new.

“Yeah, I thought it was time to see what all the hype was about,” she chuckles, tipping her head toward the direction of her house. “Well, come on. Let’s get to the house before we freeze out here.”

We make our way down the sidewalk. The others in front of us start to disperse, disappearing into their relative houses.

“Does this mean you’ll be staying for Christmas?” Mom finally asks, turning back to us.

I nod. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

“Excellent. I was really hoping you’d change your mind,” she grins, reaching out and squeezing my hand.

Wade nudges me with his shoulder.

I swallow hard, suddenly aware of how sweaty my palm feels. Clearing my throat, I say, “Mom… I have some stuff I need to talk to you about.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” she asks, turning a questioning gaze my direction.

Scrunching my face, I point to the house a few hundred feet away. “Let’s get inside first.”

“Oh, boy. Is this going to be a big talk? You’re not pregnant, are you?” Her hazel eyes widen as peers at us suspiciously. “Because the timing wouldn’t be great.”

Wade’s shocked expression turns to me expectantly.

“No—that’s not…” I say, shaking my head. Leave it to my mom to go someplace completely mundane rather than think about what I’ve recently been through with the estate. My insides tighten and I race ahead, taking the steps two at a time. I make it to the door first, pacing up and down the porch.

The two of them follow behind me, but as Mom takes out her keys, she narrows her gaze. “Hmmm…” she mutters. Unlocking the door, she swings it open, letting the two of us slide past her first.

“Okay, how about a cup of tea?” Mom says, dropping her keys on the entryway table. “Wade, you like British tea, right?”

“That would be great,” he nods, following her.

I stand in the middle of the small entryway, trying to settle my flyaway heart. My eyes drift along the banister to the stairs leading up and I sigh.

Pregnant. I wish that’s all this was.

Shaking my head, I follow them.

With the kettle in hand, Mom walks to the sink, filling it up. Wade takes a seat at