She disappeared upstairs, and I went back to the hidden room in the apothecary, this time armed with two flashlights and a lighter from the kitchen drawer.

I lit the black candles that flanked the statue of Hecate. The picture of me sat among the offerings on the altar. A shiver ran through me as the light from the candles danced across the space. Auntie Leti kept her altar stocked with fresh flowers, rum, cigars, and black coffee, and while I didn’t know the ins and outs of her practice, I knew it was important to keep the stuff on the altar fresh.

I went to the apothecary and grabbed the waste bin behind the counter. I swept the rotted garlic and onions into the basket, making a note of where everything was, then went to the kitchen and brought in fresh garlic and a damp rag to dust off the figure.

If I was willing to believe everything I’d learned about the Colchis family, Medea, and her brother Absyrtus, then that meant I also had to believe that the goddess this shrine was dedicated to was the one responsible for the immunity to poison I now possessed. If Hecate was real and willing to reward Medea for her loyalty, maybe she’d do the same for me.

The doorbell rang again, and Mom let out a string of curse words before stomping down the stairs. I went into the hallway to see who it was.

“Mrs. Redmond?” Mom sounded surprised. “Is everything okay? You look . . . rough.”

As Mrs. Redmond limped into the foyer, I tried my hardest to keep my expression unchanged, but I was horrified by her appearance.

Her right eye was swollen completely shut. The skin around it was so purple it was almost black. The left side of her face and neck was splotchy. Her left knee was bandaged but a dark red stain was seeping through. The wounds on her hands were weeping, and her hair was a mess.

Mom shook her head. “What the hell happened to you?”

“There has been some confusion with the bank,” Mrs. Redmond said, avoiding my gaze. “Apparently Circe and Selene owed several years of back taxes, and there is now a lien on the property. The house and land will be sold at auction. You must vacate immediately.”

“Excuse me?” I said, stunned. “You said the house was mine, that they wanted me to have it. You said the taxes were paid through a trust.”

“I know what I said,” Mrs. Redmond snapped. Her professional exterior was gone. “I was finalizing the title search for you and found the error. Circe should have been a better businesswoman. You’ll need to surrender the keys.” She shot me a pointed glance. “All of them. And vacate the property in twenty-four hours.”

“Wait,” I said. “Maybe we can talk to the bank. We can pay the taxes, make a payment plan or something.”

“Why didn’t you know about this?” Mom asked, glaring at Mrs. Redmond. “You’re a property lawyer, right? Shouldn’t you have known earlier?”

“This is news to me, too, but I assure you, I have done everything in my power to honor Miss Colchis’s wishes. Turns out she was a liar and wasn’t being honest when it came to being free and clear on the property. Do you know how much time I’ve wasted trying to facilitate this handover to you?”

“I’ll go to the bank myself,” I said.

Mrs. Redmond opened her briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. “Everything is right here. There’s nothing that can be done.” On top of the stack was a notice ordering us to vacate the property. She tossed it onto the coffee table. She looked at me and held out her hand. “The keys.”

Mom stepped between us. “Get out.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Mrs. Redmond, what’s wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? And did you know that Circe was missing this whole time? How did she know to leave me letters and—”

“You can’t even begin to understand the time and resources I have put into this transaction,” she said angrily. She stepped closer to me. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. Give me the keys.” She reached out and Mom slapped her hand away.

“Reach toward my daughter one more time and see what happens,” said Mom.

“Are you threatening me?” Mrs. Redmond asked.

“Take it however you want,” Mom said, squaring up. “You look like somebody already went upside your head once today. You might not wanna make it worse.”

Mrs. Redmond peered around her. “When you vacate the property, make sure you leave the keys, or I’ll have a warrant issued for your arrest. The police have already been apprised of the situation. I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

“You don’t seem sorry at all,” I said. “Maybe if you were better at your job, this wouldn’t have happened. Dr. Grant told me Karter didn’t grow up here like he said. What else are you two lying about?”

Mrs. Redmond glared at me. “Dr. Grant should mind the business that pays her.” She turned and walked toward the front door. Mom and I followed her out.

She limped to her car, pausing on the bottom step. “Maybe it’s for the best.” She glanced at our car, sitting at an odd angle. The tires were once again cut clean through.

“Seems like people don’t really want you around here anyway.”

Mom kicked off her house shoes, and, with an angry grunt, dove forward. I grabbed a handful of her shirt, trying to keep her from leaping off the porch and pummeling Mrs. Redmond.

“Mom! It’s not worth it! Stop!”

Mrs. Redmond grinned with air of superiority, like she’d won this little battle. As she sped off, we retreated into the house. Mom was angry-crying as she called Mo to tell her what happened. I sat down on the floor and thumbed through the paperwork Mrs. Redmond had left behind.

“There’s an eviction notice,” I said, puzzled by all the legal terminology on the paper. “How can they evict us if this is my house?”

“You gotta pay taxes,” Mom said while she still had Mo on the phone.

“Yeah, but shouldn’t Mrs. Redmond have known that? Like, wouldn’t there be notices or something? They skipped right to eviction?” I wasn’t an expert, but it didn’t make sense to me. I flipped through page after page of paperwork but didn’t find any notices about taxes owed or past due bills. Some of the paperwork had lines that were blacked out. There was no phone number or address for the bank. “How do we even know who we’re supposed to talk to about this?” Frustrated, I tossed the papers back onto the table. “I need some air.”