later that she’d even notice the blood. She ran to the clearing between the greenhouse and the castle and turned around to watch the fire. The structure burned brightly in its entirety like a round, glowing fireball. Like it had been set all at once, burning in uniformity. Even the glass was starting to buckle and crack.
Parked next to the greenhouse was Stuart’s truck, entirely engulfed in flames.
Hannah looked around wildly, but Alice was gone. Had she been there at all?
Hannah knew then that the fire had been set deliberately and was meant as a warning. Perhaps even to kill her. Wyatt would tell her later she couldn’t know that. That maybe she’d followed the smoke in her sleep. “You’ve been sleepwalking. Were you dreaming about starting a fire?”
In other words, had she set the fire herself?
Hannah would insist that Alice had been there.
“She lives in Tempe. Alice is at home,” Wyatt would say gently. Soothingly. The way he’d spoken to her that night at the fish fry, in that pacifying tone. Tempe was ten miles away.
Later, the fireman would tell her about the backdraft. When she’d broken the window, she’d created a rush of air. “Almost as powerful as a bomb,” he’d say. It was a miracle she’d made it out alive, really.
She stood alone in the clearing, first watching it burn, then listening to the crack as the rickety roof finally caved in on itself, and the wood beams seemed to give way all at once with barely a groan, just the folding of boards like dominoes down to the soft, wet earth, the glass popping.
By the time the firemen (all three of them) and Wyatt had shown up, with trucks and sirens, huffing down the path like drunken bears, the whole building had burned, taking with it the green truck, blackened and burned out. They found Hannah sitting on an old, rotted tree stump with her arms around her knees, her feet filthy, and her sweatshirt stuck to her skin with sweat.
Her head was bent low, and later, Wyatt would tell her he thought she was crying. Something wild and keening that cut Wyatt to the bone because it was wholly unchecked. It wasn’t until he tried to comfort her that he realized she wasn’t crying at all.
Hannah was laughing.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Now
“I need your help,” Hannah blurted to Jinny, who sat opposite her, the crystal ball between them. Hannah was distracted by it, the silliness, the Hollywood of it. Jinny huffed impatiently and stood up, placed the ball into a cabinet, and shut the door.
“Hannah, you need medical attention.” Jinny pointed at Hannah’s bandaged hand, fallout from the greenhouse fire: shards of glass lodged in her palm.
“I had medical attention. I just left the hospital. Checked myself out. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
Everything would be fine if she could just figure out what had happened to her aunt, her sister, Ellie, maybe Ruby; whether Warren wanted to kill her; and why Alice hated her so much. It was a lot to figure out, but she had to get back to Virginia. To Huck. She had to get away from Wyatt before she ruined her life. Before Brackenhill ruined her life.
Hannah took a breath. “I need your help.”
“You don’t. Anyway, I can’t help you. I don’t know who burned the greenhouse down. I don’t know what happened to Julia, or even Ellie, for that matter.” Jinny’s voice was impatient, almost petulant. “You don’t understand how this works. I don’t know everything. I can’t see everything. I can see some things, but even then I can’t control what I see. And I can’t command certain facts. Do you understand?”
Hannah didn’t, and she didn’t care. “Talk to me about Fae.”
Jinny paused, her nails clicking on the tabletop. “To be honest, my dear, we drifted apart the past few years. There isn’t much I can tell you that you don’t already know.”
“Why?”
“Some of it was her life. Caretaking is so stressful. Hard on everyone. Some of it was me. Before Stuart got sick—again—I’d wanted her to be more social. Come down from the hill, visit with friends. I know they see me as a kook, but I’m harmless. They might even think I’m the village idiot.” Jinny fluffed her black hair with her fingertips; a ringlet caught on a bracelet, and she wiggled it free. “I’m not. I know that. But I know how they all see me. Everyone likes me, though. Your aunt, however . . .” Jinny cocked her head,