“Please,” she said, hoping Max would see how sorry she was.
He aggressively shook off her hold, drawing the attention of everyone on line. “You’re the last person I want to see,” he said.
“I know that.” Cassie took a step back and lowered her voice to a whisper. The whole coffee shop seemed to fall silent. “None of us knew that was going to happen. I know that doesn’t change anything, but . . .”
Max scowled and looked away. Through clenched teeth he said, “My father’s body isn’t even cold yet. Have a little respect.” His eyes welled up.
Cassie registered the intense look of pain on Max’s face and felt it as her own. It must have been what her face looked like after Suzan died—that unmovable mask that Cassie thought was strong but still betrayed her true feelings.
There was nothing Cassie could say to ease Max’s pain. None of what had happened could be undone.
“I trusted Diana,” Max said. “And I trusted you, too. Now my dad’s gone. Please, just don’t make it any worse.”
He broke from Cassie’s hold, and she knew he was right. Trying to explain away what the Circle had done, or to bring Max further into the drama, wasn’t fair. This was his opportunity for a clean break, to not be part of this life anymore.
Cassie nodded to Max, an almost imperceptible agreement to everything he’d said. He rushed for the exit, shoulder and hip checking everyone and everything standing in his way, but when he reached the door he turned back around. His eyes locked with Cassie’s.
Was he having second thoughts? Did he consider hearing Cassie out? She waited for him to say something, anything.
He hesitated for only a few seconds before breaking his gaze and continuing through the door.
Cassie watched him go. She’d felt alone before, but now she felt . . . There weren’t even words for it.
“Are you okay, miss?” the manager behind the counter asked. He frowned sympathetically at Cassie, as if she was the victim of a hot-tempered boyfriend.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Cassie said, though she wasn’t fine at all. She rushed to order and escape the customers’ pitying stares. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Cassie and her mother’s road trip destination was Concord, Massachusetts, a town made famous by some of Cassie’s favorite authors—Louisa May Alcott, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Henry David Thoreau.
“It’s so pretty here,” Cassie said. “I wish we could actually explore it.” She soaked in the flowering oaks, leafy elms, and red and black maples. It was no wonder all those writers found inspiration here.
“We’re getting close. Hopefully we’ll have some good news soon,” her mother replied. Her thumb had begun rubbing back and forth upon the leather of the steering wheel as she drove—a telling nervous tic. She wasn’t offering much in the way of conversation.
Cassie tried to focus on the colonial architecture and bucolic country roads, but the suspense was killing her.
“So why this librarian? What can you tell me about him?” she asked.
Her mother took off her sunglasses, propped them up on the top of her head, and looked straight ahead. “You’ll meet him for yourself soon enough,” she said.
“But how do you know him?”
“He used to know your grandmother. He’s an elder, a bit of an eccentric.”
Cassie noticed her mother’s grip tighten more securely around the steering wheel.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Cassie asked.
Her mother forced a smile. She watched the winding, barely paved road stretched out before them.
“Timothy Dent had a falling out with John Blake sixteen years ago,” she said.
Cassie knew there had to be more. She waited for it, and after a few more seconds, her mother added, “As a result, he was stripped of his power and banished from New Salem.”
“So they were enemies,” Cassie said. “He and my father. What were they fighting over?”
“By the end they were fighting about everything,” her mother said. “Timothy was extremely powerful back then. But he wasn’t a Crowhaven witch. He wasn’t a part of any Circle. Which was why your father did to him what he did.”
“But he was friends with Grandma Howard,” Cassie said.