Chapter 1

As a child, you never really consider that one day your parents wouldn't be there to take care of you. You definitely never expected them to need you to do the same for them. You always see your parents as something infallible, an immovable force. I suppose that's why the heart attack had caught us all off guard. 

My knuckles were turning white as I listened to the GPS in my dated Jeep tell me to make a left turn and I forced myself to loosen my grip on the wheel so I could turn it off. I didn't need the directions anymore. Eighteen years in this town was long enough to know how to get around once you were off the highway, even as directionally challenged as I was. Papa used to tell me it was his fault I was like that, since Mama could find her way up the mountain blindfolded in a snowstorm and both of us seemed to always get lost on the way to the corner store. 

I couldn't think about it too much. It hurt worse than fallin' in the fire pit to think about. It felt like a bunch of embers in the pit of my stomach, sand in my eyes. I turned the music up, begging the station for a distraction as I turned down my old street. Mr. Davies' lawn mower cut through the heady sound of Miranda Lambert's voice and rolled down my windows to smell the dogwoods as they swayed in the breeze before I turned onto the gravel drive that led up the back of Mama's house. 

It was near impossible to miss the brick house, even as far back as it set on the lot. The steeply pitched roof looked like it was in desperate need of a replacement. What once was a surefire way to sneak out in the middle of a school night now looked like an ivy clad death trap. Even one of the dormer windows was cracked and the state of disrepair of my childhood home seemed to drive reality through. My mama was too prideful to let her house look like this if she could help it. She would've handed Papa a ladder and told him to get up there and replace the window. She would've made him run to Riverside and buy new rose bushes to replace the ones that had died from neglect. 

The sound of shoes on gravel broke me free of my own thoughts and I pasted a smile on my face as I turned the key in the ignition. "You know you could come in instead of sittin' out here lookin' sad." Mama said, already crossing her arms. Mama's silver hair was pinned back, away from her face in her signature twist bun that she usually wore at the grocery store she had managed for most of my childhood. 

"Can you blame me, Mama? Papa would be throwin' a whole fit if he could see his roses right now." I teased, stepping out of the Jeep. Mama's hair used to be the same color as mine, but around my tenth birthday her straw blonde hair had started sprouting gray streaks. 

Mama smiled, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. She walked past me to open the liftgate. I could tell she was feeling worried about having me home and the implication of it all. "Don't worry too much about it, Mama." I tried to assure her. "I don't plan takin' over everything. I'm just here to help around a little, okay? I know you've still got it." She pulled my suitcase out from the back and groaned as she followed it to the ground, leaning heavily on it. 

"Christ, Sarah, you pack your whole apartment in this thing?" She asked through heavy breaths that were definitely her trying to pretend it wasn't as difficult. It was hard to watch. Mama was always such a strong, resonating figure in my life. She was the woman that could do anything. I couldn't think like that now. 

I shook my head and walked over to take the suitcase. "I may have over packed just a teensy bit." I said as I walked with her towards the house. She let me take it easy enough, choosing to walk beside me instead. "How about I put my suitcase up in my room and we can start planning for what we're gonna fix up first." 

Mama nodded her head, pausing ahead of me to open the door. I smiled as I stepped into the entryway. It hadn't changed at all in the time I'd been gone. There were still dozens of pictures of me and the family all over the walls, along with the occasional decorative cross. Mama loved her crosses. She basically collected them. The little crystal dish was still sitting on the entryway table, with Papa's keys still laying in the bowl waitin' for him to come grab them for work. The only difference was the dust covering everything. Mama was such a neat freak I knew she musta been losing it over the mess. I took a note of it, planning on cleaning up this front room first. 

"You go on up to your room, baby, I'll go grab you a glass of peach tea." Mama called out, already heading towards the back of the house. I smiled. I loved how much the Southern Belle came out in my mama whenever she had company. I picked up my suitcase and headed up the stairs, hand trailing the wood railing as I went. My room was the first on the right, with the door that had the big wooden S on it. 

I'd decorated my room myself at sixteen and it showed. I pinned up everything that I considered important to me. Ticket stubs, polaroids, poems, notes, grade cards, everything I received that had a lick of sentimental value I would jam a thumbtack to a stick to my wall. Looking at it now, it was an impressive collage of junk. The various colors of the tacked decor contrasted vibrantly with a nauseatingly bold hot pink wall. I'd insisted on the color, against my Papa's better judgment. Imagine the headaches he had to fight off helping me with homework here. I set my suitcase on the bed and walked to the window, fingering the lace curtains I'd had for years. My eyes drifted to the street below and I frowned.

Evelyn Walters was standing on the sidewalk, staring up directly at me. 

My brow furrowed and I struggled to shake the uneasiness of it. I was a year younger than Evelyn but I'd had a class or two with her before she graduated. She wasn't mean or weird. She was a little standoffish but I always attributed it to the rumors. 

Chincoteague island was supposed to be a witches' town. It had been since settlers came way back in the colony days. It was blessed to not be ruined by all those big box stores, and instead was full of flourishing small businesses that you really just don't see anywhere else. Rumor was, that was because of the witches. There were five witch families rumored to still in the town. The Walters, who owned the funeral home, the Tilley's, who owned the apothecary, the Dairsie's who owned the motel, the Addison's who ran the boutiques and salons, and the Brookshire's, who went, every generation, to go into the medical field. People usually didn't mind the idea of the witches, because along with those rumors of their existence, there were rumors that they were what kept Chincoteague flourishing and safe.

And it wasn't like there weren't reasons to think they were witches. All the families spent all their time together. They would celebrate weird holidays, pulling all their kids from school with sick notes on the same day. It was weird as hell, pardon my french. 

Me and Evelyn got along fine, I'd always thought. Why, then, was she standing on my sidewalk staring me down like I ran over her cat on my way in? I didn't want to be rude, even waved down at her, but she didn't move to wave back. She just turned tail and left. 

I gave myself a full body wiggle, shaking off all the weird energy that encounter gave me. I couldn't be worryin' about all that now, I've got more important things. Mama needed me to be here for her and I couldn't do that worrying about old classmates. I headed down the stairs where Mama was waiting with a tall glass of tea. 

"Thanks, Mama. I think I can start with cleaning up this front hall and you'll feel much better." I said as I took the iced tea. The cup was already coated in a thin layer of condensation. Maybe I would see about getting her a better AC. It was so darn hot in the house I was already starting to sweat. 

Mama shook her head. "Now don't you start working your tail off already. You just got here, baby, you should take some time to relax." I laughed softly. 

I hadn't taken a sabbatical at work to relax at my Mama's house. I was here to help her and to grieve. Probably the former over the latter since I still wasn't ready to think about it too much. "Mama I'm here to help, not sit around." I reminded her. 

She wanted to argue, I could see it in her eyes but I suggested she make something for us to eat once we'd finished up the hall. Mama gave in, and I got to work cleaning up all the dust and newspapers in the hall. When enough time had passed and mama carried in a few plates, we settled in at the bottom of the steps to eat lunch. 

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And that was how it went for the next few days. I'd clean up while mama did what she could. We tackled the house room by room, amassing a lot of trash in the process as I sorted through all the things mama struggled to toss after papa's wake. There were times when we both had to take a break, to cry it out after we found something that reminded us of him. We would talk about things he'd do, stuff he'd given us. We reminisced and sometimes we didn't even cry. 

I took to running errands for her. The town was just the same as when I left it so it almost felt like I never left. The grocery market was busy as all get out, a special they always ran on Tuesdays to get rid of the old produce before the truck came. I used to come with Papa to get peaches for dessert, and we always made sure to grab an extra ripe one for mama. Remembering that, I picked up a peach. I brought it to my nose, sniffing softly as I closed my eyes. Ugh. I mighta been biased but I think we always had the best produce. It was always the sweetest, the juiciest, just the best. 

"Are you done having your moment?" A southern twang as cold as peach ice cream spoke out. 

My eyes snapped open, turning towards the voice and landing on the woman who had spoken. She was beautiful and tall, standing a good six inches taller than me. Her skin was the warm sepia of a cup of coffee with just a splash of creamer mixed in and her hair reminded me of calla lilies, black with a stripe of red dyed through the soft looking curls. She was wearing a plain black hoodie and jeans that were covered in rips and writing. Her eyes were so dark you could hardly see her pupil, and the smudged eyeliner around it seemed to make them stand out even more. She had two lines drawn over the bridge of her nose. Her lips were blended black and red lipstick. It was rare to see this kind of style in the south, even in Chincoteague. 

Her eyebrows raised and she gestured with her head. "Hello? Are you deaf?" She asked, raising her hand to motion with one finger from her chin to behind her ear. 

Embarrassed, I shook my head and tucked a strand of my hair away. "No, I'm sorry. I'm not. I didn't mean to stare. Your outfit is really cool and your hair is really pretty. Like, the, the color, you know? I was staring cause you're pretty." My face was turning a dark red, I could feel it. I was embarrassing myself. 

Her black eyes looked me up and down and she gave me an amused grin. Her smile made my heart race, dread and anxiety rising in my stomach. I pushed it down. "So are you gonna move?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry." I stepped out of the way. "I'm Sarah, by the way." 

She picked her peach and set it in her basket. "Nellie." She said as she started to turn around and continue her shopping. "You live around here?" 

I felt drawn in. It was just me being awkward, I was sure. She just seemed so cool. I didn't have any adult friends and any friends I'd had from high school and college had slowly drifted away from me, or me them. I walked behind her, shopping list temporarily forgotten as I followed along in a cloud of her fresh linen and cedar wood scent. "Yeah, well, kind of. I grew up in town but I'm back to help my mama with her house." I answered. 

"So you're gonna be around a while." She concluded, turning back to me. 

I frowned a little, confused. "Yeah, likely. Mama's house needs a whole lot done and I'm her only kid." I explained. "Why?"

She held out her hand, long pointed nails on each finger as she opened and closed her hand in a gimme motion. My brow furrowed and, slowly, I lifted my hand and put it in hers. Nellie laughed, a sharp sound that sent a shock through my chest. "Your phone." Nellie smiled at me again, a grin with all teeth. "Cmon, Sarah, I don't have all day." 

My confusion was written all over my face as I pulled my phone out of my purse and offered it up to the woman. She took it quickly, nails clicking against the screen as she typed and handed it back. "What'd you do?" I asked.

"Gave you my number. Text me." She winked and turned as I looked down at the numbers on my phone. When I looked back up she'd already turned the corner and disappeared.