Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
She falls quiet, but I don’t hear any sound coming from the other end of the line.
Finally, she says, “Regina, are you still there?”
A faint drone emanates from Lizzy’s cell, but she doesn’t have the volume turned up loud enough for me to hear.
I can only sit and watch, dying to know what’s going on as she nods and mutters, “Uh-huh. Oh…” and her eyes grow wider.
Wider.
Until they’re like two full moons in her face.
But she’s also smiling, a small curve of her lips that has awe lurking in the corners. Her eyes begin to shine as she laughs and softly assures Regina, “No, please. Of course not. I’m just so glad you told me now! This is…” She swallows and blinks faster. “This is amazing news. Wonderful. I couldn’t be happier. I’m so glad we’re family, even distantly.”
She glances up at me and mouths happily, “Not my brother!” before telling Rafe’s mother, “Yes, absolutely. I’ll be in touch with any news and just…be in touch in general. I’m so glad we’ve reconnected after all this time. I’ve missed you.”
There are a few more murmured assurances, and then Lizzy ends the call and flings her arms around my neck. “Everything is okay! He’s not my secret brother!”
“Congratulations,” I say, laughing as I hug her closer. “So, how long ago did the family tree diverge?”
She pulls back, amazement in her smile again. “The sister who cursed the family. Greta. Apparently, she didn’t die in the convent fire. She left the order, remarried, and had another family in Italy that eventually became Rafe’s branch of the tree. But Regina’s mother told her to keep it a secret. She thought it was scandalous that their ancestor had taken vows to marry God and then decided a hunky Italian butcher was more fun.” She lifts a shoulder. “But that’s why Regina applied to be our cook. She wanted to see where part of her family had lived, and then she stayed because she loved my sisters and me and knew we’d starve to death without a responsible adult around.”
“Did she mention anything about…”
Elizabeth shakes her head. “No. If she’s heard about it, she’s not the kind to believe in curses. She’s ultra-Catholic like her mother, but not in a superstitious way.” Her hands slide down my arms to grip both of mine. “But if this doesn’t count as getting rid of the bad blood in the family, I don’t know what would.” She beams. “I think we did it! I think the curse is broken.”
“Maybe we should ask Manfri and Kaula when we get back to the camp? Just to be sure?”
Lizzy cups my face in her hands with a soft sigh. “Look at you. Look at how far you’ve traveled down the crazy road in just a few days. I’m so proud.”
I huff. “I don’t know about that. Give me a few days to rest, and I’ll be back to denying there’s any such thing as magic.”
She shakes her head. “Not a chance.”
“No?”
“No. I’m going to make sure you keep believing in magic.” She leans in until her lips are only a whisper away from mine. “I’ll remind you every single day.”
“Yes, please,” I say, and then I kiss her, soft and sweet, and then harder, deeper, our tongues dancing and our breath coming faster until a moth smacks into my face and I pull away, sputtering, as Lizzy bats it off my shoulder.
“I think he was telling us to get a room,” she says, laughing.
“Cheeky moth.” I take her hand. “To your tent, my lady?”
“Yes.” She stands, swaying a little before she takes a breath and steadies herself with a hand on my arm. “But maybe the café first? I think I need to eat something. Maybe a lot of something. I’m starving all of a sudden.”
“We’ll order one of everything on the menu,” I promise.
Her eyes go wide. “We should. For real. I’ve never done anything like that before, but I want to. I want to do all the things. Everything that I told myself was off-limits and everything I thought I wouldn’t have time for, and all the other stuff I haven’t gotten around to imagining yet.”
“And you will,” I say, ignoring the tug of doubt at the back of my mind.
We’ll talk to Kaula or one of the other Romani campers tomorrow morning, make sure an emergency blood donation qualifies as a curse-breaking act, and snip away the last lingering threads of doubt.
But when we arrive back at the campground with boxes full of leftovers to share with anyone at the Roma camp who’s awake and hungry, our neighbors are gone. Every tent stake has been pulled up, every child’s toy and folding chair packed away.
All that’s left are tire and wagon tracks in the dust, leading out of the site and onto the road.