detailed as ones from movies, and the pages aren’t elaborately painted with pictures of what was being described. Instead, messy handwriting is scrawled over the paper with the occasional badly drawn diagram.
But there’s no doubt that this is a Book of Shadows.
“Was Aunt Estelle a witch?” I whisper and continue leafing through the book. I stop on a page titled The Theban Alphabet and actually gasp. It’s the same symbols that are around the triple-moon symbol on the pendant, the dagger, and now this book. I stare at it for a second before closing the book to look at the symbol on the cover, using my finger to mark the page. I flip back and forth, translating the ancient language.
“Grim Gate. What?” I close the book, leaning back and feeling more confused again, which seems to be a common theme when it comes to anything to do with Aunt Estelle. I enter “grim gate” into a Google search, and not surprisingly, see only results that have to do with some sort of online fantasy game. I run my fingers over the old leather book and then text Mom.
Me: Did Aunt Estelle practice witchcraft?
I set the phone down, not expecting Mom to answer right away, and take the Book of Shadows with me onto the bed. I sit crossed-legged, slowly flipping through the pages before Mom texts me back.
Mom: Not that I’m aware of. She was Methodist and went to church with Grandma.
I didn’t mean it in the form of a religion, but there’s no point in trying to explain to Mom the difference between a Wiccan and someone with powers.
Mom: Why do you ask?
Me: I found a spell book at the house and was just curious.
I move the book to the nightstand and get up, taking a photo of the room to send to Mom. She wants more photos, so I record a video tour for her. About twenty minutes later, I grab the keys to the old Caddy and give it a whirl. The engine fires right up, and there’s a full tank of gas. I’m on the border between both Paradise Valley and Thorne Hill and want to check them both out. Since I’m going to Thorne Hill tomorrow to settle everything at the bank, I decide on Paradise Valley for today.
It takes a lot longer than expected to get into town from the house. There’s a Walmart here, and I make a quick run in to get some groceries and other necessities to get me through the weekend. I get takeout on the way back to the house. It’s early in the evening when I arrive back, and I put the few cold items in the fridge and then take my food onto the porch, trying to figure out what exactly is so familiar about this little white table.
A red pickup truck drives down the road, and I watch it until it turns into the driveway of my nearest neighbor, who’s about a quarter-mile away. The fact that there are a few others on this street, though far away, does bring me a little comfort. I take a bite of my taco and look at the yard, trying not to think too hard about how not creeped out I feel here.
I don’t want to jinx it.
Honestly, I was worried about coming and being in this house alone and having free time like this can make me anxious, which is silly, I know, because I love having free time. But when I’m not doing something mindless like watching Netflix for hours, or distracted with the hustle of work, my mind tends to get away from me.
And if there are any spirits nearby, well, their emotions become mine. I have to work to keep the mental shields up the rest of the day. It’s tiring, and I’ll be the first to admit I can get snappy when I’m exhausted from trying to tune out the dead all day.
But here…I don’t get any bad feelings at all. I don’t sense any spirits or anything else for that matter. I can’t explain it since I can’t remember ever being here, but it feels like I’m finally home.
Chapter Ten
I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders and sit up, fluffing the pillow behind me. It’s nearing midnight and I’m up in bed reading through the Book of Shadows. The house still doesn’t feel creepy or haunted, but I’m now very much aware that I’m a single woman in a house in a