Bri: Did you know what your mom was doing this whole time?

I didn’t want to believe that he had known. After everything I’d shown him, everything I’d shared with him. I felt stupid. My phone buzzed with his reply.

Karter: You should go back to Brooklyn. Right now. It’s not safe for you here.

I tried calling Mom. No answer.

A flurry of activity in the front of the lobby drew my attention. Dr. Grant came rushing in.

“What’s going on?” she asked

I steered her into the bank manager’s office. “You were right about Karter, and his mom is even worse. She’s been lying to me and my family and to everyone this whole time.” I looked at the bank representative. “Please fill her in. I gotta go.”

“No,” Dr. Grant said. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m gonna go get my mom and we’ll meet you back here.” I didn’t wait for her to protest. I quickly left the bank and called Mom, then Mo, and then Mom again. No one answered. I set a pickup for another Lyft. My phone rang.

“Mo!” I yelled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where are you?” I asked.

“I’m on my way back, but it’ll be a while. Your mom was so upset. What’s going on?”

“When’s the last time you talked to her? To Mom?”

“Earlier, when she asked me to come back. Why?” Fear invaded her voice. “Briseis, what is going on?”

“You gotta get here. Are you taking the train?”

“No. I rented a car. I’m driving, but I’m not even halfway back yet.”

“Mo, Mrs. Redmond was lying. There’s nothing wrong with the house, at least not in the way she said.”

“Oh,” Mo said, heaving a sigh of relief. “Okay. That’s good. Wait—why are y’all so upset then?”

“She’s not the person who was supposed to get in touch with us about the house. All those papers were with a woman from the bank who disappeared and then turned up dead.”

Mo gasped.

“Mrs. Redmond knew about me,” I said. “She pretended to be from the adoption agency and gave the bank our information to have the house papers drawn up. Circe didn’t will us this house, and I don’t think she left me those notes. It was Mrs. Redmond the whole time.”

“Why?” Mo asked.

“The Heart,” I said. “That’s all this has ever been about.”

My Lyft pulled up and I jumped in. “You gotta get here,” I told Mo. “I’m gonna go get Mom and meet Dr. Grant back at the bank.”

“I’m coming,” Mo said. She hung up.

I called Mom ten more times, back-to-back. I texted her over and over. Each time she didn’t answer, my chest grew tighter, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. I couldn’t allow my mind to wander to the negative possibilities. Maybe she was in the shower. Maybe she was in another room where she couldn’t hear her phone. I told myself I was overreacting, but Karter’s message replayed in my mind.

You should go back to Brooklyn. Right now. It’s not safe for you here.

We pulled into the driveway and I jumped out before the car came to a full stop. My ankle throbbed as I raced inside.

“Mom!”

The silence that met me was louder than the rush of blood in my ears as my heart leaped into a furious rhythm. I sprinted up the stairs, ignoring the pain in my leg, and checked her room, the guest rooms, then ran back downstairs. An all-consuming sense of dread overtook me.

I ran into the apothecary. “Mom!”

I fumbled with my phone as I tried to text Mo again. I stopped. There, on the counter, was a sheet of paper with four words scribbled on it.

Look out the window

I ran to the window and pushed it open. My mom stood at the tree line and Mrs. Redmond stood behind her.

I dropped my phone and sprinted outside. All around me, the grass twisted violently, angrily. As I cut across the rear lawn and approached Mrs. Redmond, Mom flinched. I stopped in my tracks. Mrs. Redmond held a knife to my mom’s throat.

Her hair was wild, her one good eye wide. “One more step and I will kill her.”

“Please don’t hurt her,” I pleaded. I took another step forward.

Mrs. Redmond pushed the knife against Mom’s throat. “Are you stupid?”

“What are you doing? I know about the house and the paperwork and—”

“You don’t know anything!” she screamed. “I don’t have time for this! I’ve been waiting too long already!” She gestured toward the curtain of vines. “Open it. Take us to the garden, and if you try anything, if a single blade of grass moves in my direction, I’ll kill her. Understand?”

I locked eyes with my mother. “Stay on the path and don’t touch anything when we get to the garden.”

“Quiet!” Mrs. Redmond shouted. Her hand was steady on the knife’s handle. She would do exactly what she’d threatened without a second thought.

The curtain of vines guarding the hidden trail parted as I approached. We stepped onto the path as the sun sank below the horizon. Pushing forward, Mrs. Redmond kept the knife at my mom’s neck, cursing and complaining with every step. The trees groaned, contorting their trunks to bend toward me, their boughs like eager arms reaching to embrace me. I had to ignore them. They might lean in and pluck Mrs. Redmond out of her own skin, but not before she cut my mom’s throat. I focused on the ground in front of me, which became harder to do in the encroaching darkness.

When we came to the clearing Mrs. Redmond gazed up at the garden wall as thick ropes of euphorbia snaked their way to mingle with the ivy.

“I tried to get here on my own,” Mrs. Redmond said breathlessly. “Knowing it was there and not being able to reach it . . .” She laughed lightly.

Her injuries made sense now. “How’d that work out for you?” I asked angrily.

Mom let out a choked yelp as Mrs. Redmond pushed the knife against her throat. “Wanna keep running your mouth?”

I clenched my teeth so hard I thought they’d break.

“I tried to reason with Circe and with Selene,” Mrs. Redmond said, pushing my mom toward the gate. “They wouldn’t listen. Maybe you’ll be smarter than they were.” She shot me a pointed glance. “Open the gate.”