23

T he bus ride home was miserable. Miles was damp from the rain, the person behind him was listening to their music unreasonably loud, and he'd been so lost in thought about tonight's rituals that he almost missed his stop. The driver huffed in annoyance but opened the doors again, ushering him off.

Halfway through the front gate, Miles stumbled to a halt, nearly tripping over his own feet in surprise. Aunt Robin was out in the front yard, clipping rosemary and thyme from their herb garden. The wedding band hanging around her neck rested on top of her lilac sweater.

"Hey," he called, smiling at the unexpected sight. Robin sometimes came out of her room, managed to hold her head above the waves of grief for a while, until she inevitably drifted back to her sanctuary, a ship caught in a current she didn't know how to break free of. "Do you need help?"

"No, thank you." Her intensity pinned him in place, pensive and a little forlorn. "I heard about the car accident. I—I'm sorry I wasn't around to help."

"It's fine," he hurried to reassure her. "I wasn't hurt or anything."

"You were. I talked with your mom, about how I should be here for you more. You and the girls." Unless she'd had a revelation on how to repair her broken relationship with Charlee, Miles was pretty sure she wasn't including her daughter in that. "I'm going to try to be, okay?"

And here she was, forcing herself out of her room in an attempt to prove she could be counted on, could be involved. Miles didn't know what his mom had said to her, but he felt a pang of sympathy—and guilt.

"Okay," he told her gently. "Let me know if you need anything."

She nodded and went back to clipping her herbs.

Inside the house, Miles shrugged out of his jacket, dropping it and his backpack at the foot of the stairs and striding into the kitchen for a glass of water. He needed to finish writing out the steps of the rituals tonight, and put together a list of all the ingredients and supplies he'd need to—

In the middle of the kitchen, his mom was standing with her arms crossed. Waiting for him. Charlee was beside her, face ghostly white.

"What's going on?"

Sarah's eyes spat sparks. "What were you doing with Gabriel Hawthorne?"

Oh, shit. Miles shot Charlee a look of betrayal.

She shook her head frantically. But if she hadn't told on him, how had his mom found out?

"I don't know—" he tried.

"Stop lying to me." Sarah sucked in a breath so sharp it should've punctured a hole in her lungs. "Your dad and I have been worried about you, about how strange you've been acting. I thought it was a problem at school, or a secret girlfriend, but this… A Hawthorne ? I don't even know what to say."

Her words sent something sour bubbling up in his throat, blistering acid. "How did you find out?"

"I got a copy of the police report from your accident. Imagine my surprise when it included a statement from the passenger in your car, Gabriel Hawthorne."

He was screwed. Completely and totally screwed. He hadn't even stopped to think about the police report.

"Mom, listen, it's not that bad—"

" Not that bad?" Her voice took on a shrill edge that made Miles wince. "What were you doing with him? Was he responsible for the accident? Did Felicity have something to do with this?"

"No! She has no idea we even know each other. I've… I've been helping him. We've hung out a few times to—"

"A few times?" She wobbled, close to falling over.

God, he was an idiot. She hadn't known it was more than a single car ride. Miles had just given up his chance of escaping this intact.

He couldn't imagine what would've happened if he'd mentioned Gabriel joining his school.

"Let me explain. He needed my help. A couple of weeks ago, I had—"

"Nothing could be that important," she snapped. "They're liars and they're dangerous. We told you that. Your dad and I try to give you freedom and let you make your own decisions. We only asked one thing of you. One thing— stay away from the Hawthornes ."

"Aunt Sarah," Charlee chimed in, giving him a sympathetic glance. "Miles really did have a good—"

"How could you know about this and not tell us? Have you been helping them sneak around this whole time?"

Charlee's silence said it all.

"It's not her fault," Miles rushed to defend her. "I made her promise not to tell. I knew how you'd react, but, Mom, Gabriel needed help. Remember the ghost I came to you about? I saw him at the Hawthorne party, and—"

She held up her hand, like she could physically stop his words. Miles had never seen her so upset before. She wasn't even listening to what he was saying.

"Go upstairs," she told him, deadly calm. "Wait in your room until your dad wakes up and I tell him about this. I don't think I need to say that you're grounded. Beyond grounded."

She wouldn't even stop and let him explain, so determined to believe he'd committed an unforgivable betrayal. Her hatred of the Hawthornes, of Felicity, outweighed her trust in him, so much so that she wouldn't even give him a chance.

It hurt. He'd tried so hard to make excuses for why they kept things from him, lied to him.

"No," he said. Nothing had changed—he still needed to help Gabriel. He had a job to finish. "Not until you listen to me."

Charlee's lips parted in shock. Miles and his mom stared each other down from across the kitchen.

"What's making you act like this?" his mom asked, her words cutting him open. "Did that boy do something to you? This isn't you."

She didn't know him. How could she even say that, when she assumed he was keeping a secret girlfriend ? She was so caught up in her own prejudices that she was willing to stand here and act like Miles was a monster for trying to do the right thing.

"Why can't you trust my judgment?" he demanded, speaking over her when she opened her mouth to interrupt. "No, I mean it—what have I ever done to make you doubt me? I go to school and keep my grades up just to make you and Dad happy, even though we all know it doesn't matter because running the family business is all I'll ever do. Exactly how you want it. I spend all my free time taking on extra jobs for you guys because I don't know how to say ‘no' anymore. It's not like I enjoy digging up dead people or getting thrown around by pissed off ghosts. Actually, I hate it. Not that you care."

His voice hadn't gotten any louder, but she was staring at him like he'd started yelling.

"I do everything for this family. Everything . And the one time I do something you disagree with, you can't trust that it's important. The only reason I lied to you in the first place was because I knew you'd never give me a chance to explain, that you'd never listen. Do you know how that felt?"

His panic was gone, replaced with a calm, bitter truth. He wouldn't apologize, wouldn't back down on this. His parents had raised him to be a good person, but they never seemed to care about him being his own person.

He was tired of it. If he was being honest with himself, he'd been tired of it for a while now.

"Do you hate them so much," he asked quietly, "that you're going to make me feel hated, too? I've never done anything to deserve that."

His mom was ashen. Her chin trembled slightly. "You don't understand who the Hawthornes are. You don't know what you're doing, the risk you're—"

"I do. Actually, I'm willing to bet I know more than you do by now. And I don't care. Gabriel needed my help and I'm not the kind of person to ignore that." He squared his shoulders. "You probably have yourself to thank for that."

He turned, storming out of the kitchen and up the stairs, not because she'd told him to, but because he had nowhere else to go.

In his room, he sat on his bed. His blinks were dry and gritty, hands surprisingly unshaken where they rested against his legs. Even the constant anxious twist in his core was absent.

It felt… good, to get that off his chest. To not have to lie anymore.

The realization scared and exhilarated him—because while his parents' wrath was a foreign, frightening thing, at least the truth was out now. Whether they liked it or not.

His door cracked open and Charlee peeked in. Uncertainty turned her mouth down at the corners, her eyes a dimmer green than usual.

"You can come in," he told her, scooting to make room on the bed.

She sat down hesitantly next to him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

She shrugged. "I'm sorry I couldn't warn you."

"I'm sorry you got pulled into that."

"She wasn't half as hard on me as she was on you."

It was impossible to not still feel bad about dragging her into this. Charlee hadn't wanted anything to do with Gabriel from day one, but she'd stuck it out for Miles.

She drew her knees up to her chest. A hole in her pink striped sock flashed her big toe. "So, what's the plan now?"

Nothing had changed in that regard. "We're still doing the ritual tonight. I'm meeting Gabriel at his place at midnight. From there, we'll go to the mausoleum and summon Florence. We need to finish this thing."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Your mom isn't going to let you out of this house."

"She can't do anything to stop me. I'll sneak out tonight so she won't even know I'm gone, and it's not like she can take my car keys." He gave her a sideways look. "Speaking of which…"

"I'll drive you."

Her offer caught him off guard. "Are you sure? You know I'll be careful with your car if you let me borrow it."

"It's not that." She rested her chin on her knees. "I want to be there for you, in case anything goes wrong."

"I don't expect you to stick this out now," he told her, and meant it. "I don't want to cause any problems between you and my parents. It's different for me. I have to finish this job."

"It isn't just a job to you. Maybe at first, but not anymore."

"It doesn't matter." He picked at a snag on the knee of his jeans. "The point is, you don't have anything to prove. Especially not to me."

"I know that. And I know I've given you a hard time about Gabriel, and I'm not saying I'm wrong about him, but…" She peered up at him. "You seem different. I don't know, he might be good for you, in a way. I've never seen you stand up for yourself. I've never even seen you talk back to your mom before."

"I got frustrated," Miles confessed sheepishly.

"Good. You never get frustrated and it's weird. So maybe—and I can't believe I'm going to say this—some of that Hawthorne attitude has rubbed off on you in a good way."

Miles laughed. "I don't know if I'm supposed to say thanks or not."

"You can give me a giant all-encompassing thank you when I help you sneak out tonight without getting caught and drive your ass to the murder estate when I should be getting my beauty sleep. I also accept gratitude in the form of delicious sugary treats."

"So that's what this is really about."

"And you're a fool for not realizing it sooner." Her mirth faded. "Honestly, though, I could use a distraction right now anyway."

It took Miles a moment and then—

Oh. He'd forgotten about Aunt Robin.

"Have you talked to her yet?"

Her fingers dug into her knees. "Unfortunately. She came out of her room and the second she saw me, she asked why I wasn't at school."

Miles winced. Charlee had graduated last year. "I'm sure she didn't—"

"Don't. Don't defend her right now. She could get help any time she wanted. It's not like she's alone and doesn't have a support system. People would take her where she needs to go, to see doctors who know what she needs. We're— I'm not enough." She bit her lip, hard enough it had to hurt. "If Dad was still here, if it had been me instead, he'd be enough. She'd get better for him."

Miles didn't know what to say. He wanted to tell her that wasn't true, but he wasn't sure he believed it.

"It's not going to last, you know that, right?" she continued bitterly. "Her making an effort, all invested in our wellbeing. I guarantee, in a week or two, she'll be right back in that room and we get to start this all over again." A muscle in her jaw ticked. "One of these days, she's going to come out and I won't be here."

"We could run away together," Miles teased, nudging her.

She laughed. "You couldn't survive two days without your mom's pancakes. And she'd probably assume Felicity had kidnapped you and go start a war."

She wasn't wrong. She was also still hurting about her mom; Miles could see it in her face.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tugging her to lean against him. "I'm sorry I haven't been here for you lately. This thing with Gabriel… well, you know. But I'm here if you need anything. Always, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, dork." Her voice sounded thick, a mirror of his own. "And, I'll admit, part of the reason I hate Gabriel is because he's been stealing you away from me so much. I'm supposed to be your best friend, you jerk."

"As if Gabriel could ever replace you." He hugged her tighter. "You're stuck being my favorite until the day I die."

"Lucky me," she grumbled, but relaxed against him.