Cursed (Enchanted Gods #1) - K.K. Allen Page 0,14
I came into the picture.”
My heart aches from such a tragic story of my poor grandfather. I wish I could have met him. Maybe my mom didn’t know about the fire. Surely, she would have wanted to visit after hearing something like that. Even as my questions and thoughts compile, I realize I’m trying to make sense out of something I haven’t even begun to understand. From how my mom had made it sound, George Summer loved her like a father, and in return, she cared for him deeply.
Charlotte must have said all that she’s willing to say, because she leads me past the great room, and through an archway that leads to a formal dining room. Through the next set of wide-open doors, I spot a gourmet kitchen with beautifully ornate cabinets and sparkling countertops. It’s clear there isn’t a spot in this house that isn’t meticulously looked after.
That feeling of just how out of place I am here snakes through me all over again, but I have no time to dwell on it. Moments after we’ve stepped into the dining room, the sound of the front door opening and shutting has my attention. My heart starts to race. All the anticipation and buildup about meeting Rose has done a number on my nerves.
Charlotte pops onto her toes as excitement lights up her face. “Oh, good. She’s back. Time for breakfast.” She scrambles over to the nearest seat and pulls it out for me. “Go on. Have a seat. I’ll run and get the food.”
I take my seat as she runs out of the room just as a stranger—my grandmother—enters the room, makes her way around the table, and sits across from me. The corners of her mouth are slightly upturned, but I’m struggling to figure out if she’s smiling or not.
She doesn’t say a word while she looks me over as if trying to remember me from some past life. I do the same to her. With cotton-ball hair, dark-gray eyes, and the skin of a middle-aged woman, she is, in fact, a stunning sight. The woman may be in her upper sixties, but she doesn’t look a day over fifty.
While I feel like I’m staring back at a stranger, Rose’s curious expression makes me feel as if she doesn’t consider me a stranger at all.
“You are more beautiful than I imagined." She speaks articulately, matter-of-factly, and with a tinge of a Greek accent. “It’s as if I’m looking at your mother’s reflection.”
As nervous as I am, I find the strength to respond. “Is it? I was always curious about what my mother looked like when she was younger. She didn’t have any photos.”
Rose brightens as she nods. “Well, you are the spitting image.” She leans back slightly and reaches for her glass of water. “I have plenty of photos. You’re welcome to all of them.”
Relief makes its way through me. I don’t know what I expected to feel when I met Rose, but she isn’t nearly as intimidating as I imagined. “Thank you—” I nearly call her Grandma, but I stop myself. “Is it okay if I call you Rose?”
Rose wrinkles her nose and waves a hand in the air. “Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable, dear.” Her gaze drops to where I’m tugging on my bracelet, still trying to remove it from my wrist like a dirty stain. “Is that what I think it is?”
“It was my mother’s.” I look down at it, focusing on the clasp. “The clasp is broken though, and the chain is strong. I can’t seem to remove it.”
“Perhaps you should take it as a sign.”
I meet Rose’s gaze. “She gave this to me the day she died.” My chest feels shaky with emotion. “I don’t want to wear it anymore.”
“But you must, Katrina. Your mother never took it off, and neither should you.”
I frown. “But she doesn’t even know where it came from.”
Rose nods. “She always believed it kept her safe. It will keep you safe too.”
My breath catches in my chest at how much Rose knows. “That’s just a silly superstition. Look what happened as soon as she removed it. She died. I don’t want that reminder.”
My grandmother’s eyes soften. “You shouldn’t think of it as a burden. It was a gift, the last thing your mother ever gave you, and she did so with good intention. The meaning behind that should never be lost. If it was your mother’s final wish for you to wear it, then that’s what