Cursed (Enchanted Gods #1) - K.K. Allen Page 0,3

notes, and then I’ll be back here in time to start the movie. Two hours, tops.”

I groan and roll my eyes. “Fine. I’ll take a bath or something.”

My mom’s eyes light up. “Great idea, sweetheart. Take a bath. Read a book soon. I’ll be back.” She leans over and kisses the top of my head. “I love you, Katrina.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

Darkness, emptiness, loss. I’m swimming through the fiery depths of my own thoughts—past, present, and future—when I’m ripped from my slumber by three hard knocks on the front door. My mind is trapped in a fog, but I can feel my body aching from my having fallen asleep on our tattered, stiff green couch. I yawn and look at the digital clock above the television. It’s three in the morning. The television is on, but it’s stuck on the menu screen from the movie I started streaming earlier, and the bowl of popcorn I made hours ago is still sitting half-full on the coffee table. I must have passed out early.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Mom?” I stand up and scan the apartment.

I check her room. Her bed is still made. I look in the bathroom. No sign of her. Finally, I walk toward the front entrance and discover that her purse and keys are missing from the table near the front door, where she normally places them. She should have been home hours ago.

It’s times like this I wish my mom wasn’t so against simple methods of communication like cell phones and email. She’s always warned me away from the addictive technology that will consume my life if I’m not careful. I swear she would have put me in homeschool sooner if she didn’t have to work so much.

Another round of knocks pound at the door, making me jump. I take another step to reach the door and peek through the little hole. The moment I see the police uniform, my entire body freezes. I can feel the blood draining from my face and pumping through my veins. Everything is racing—my heart, my mind. I can’t shake the dark, awful thoughts I’ve been experiencing lately. It feels like everything that’s happened over the past two years has escalated into this pivotal point, but I don’t know why. I don’t know what any of it means, but I can’t avoid whatever this is any longer.

I unlock the door, pull it open, and face the two uniformed men, who have unmistakable sorrow in their eyes.

“Hello, Miss. We’re looking for Katrina Summer, daughter of Grace Summer. Is that you?”

I nod slowly, as if that simple act will delay the inevitable. I look down at my wrist where my mom’s bracelet now rests, and somehow, I already know what they’re about to tell me.

I’ll never forget that hollow, rhythmic pounding on the door or the expressions on the officers’ faces as they delivered the news.

“We regret to inform you that your mother was in an unfortunate accident.”

I insisted that they’d made a mistake, that they had the wrong apartment. My mother was still at work. Then they described her blue vintage bicycle, including the tattered brown seat and large woven basket. That was all it took for my entire world to turn black.

I’ve existed in a numb state for the past few days. It’s like I’m living outside my body, hovering and watching the aftermath of my mother’s death unfold like one big horrible nightmare. I wish it was only a nightmare. I’m no stranger to those. But I know I’ll never be able to shake this dark reality, not even if they do find the person responsible for ending my mother’s life. Justice isn’t enough to replace what I lost.

If I hadn’t gotten into trouble at school, she would never have had to go back to work in the first place. And then maybe she wouldn’t have taken off the bracelet that, in her mind, protected her all these years. If it weren’t for me, she would still be here. I can’t turn back the clock, and that fact alone creates an all-consuming guilt that I’ll live with forever.

“We’re almost there, Katrina. Just a few more minutes.”

The blond woman driving introduced herself to me at the police station as my grandmother’s caretaker, Charlotte. She seems nice enough, but the fact that everyone expected for me to get up and leave with her as if we were old friends was the most unnerving experience. From there, she made sure the police had the information they