Page 60 of Calling Quarters

The next few moments happened in a storm of overwhelming thoughts and emotions. The addition of the other three created a far more dynamic experience. One that overtook my entire body to a point of nearly blacking out completely.

My body and spirit were torn apart once again, only this time the dark, dampened wood of the cabin disappeared and I was spit out into a bright, cotton candy sky.

I felt their presence in each of my senses before I could physically see them. It was the oddest sensation, as if they were somehow inside my head and surrounding my body all at once—a deeply rooted part of me.

My father's spirit presented itself first. It felt masculine and familiar and filled my nose with his potent cologne. My eyes opened and he was standing before me with Aunt Ash at his side. When my eyes locked with hers, I was consumed with the taste of her infamous brownies—such an odd detail to remember.

“It's really you,” I marveled, my throat thick with emotion.

“You've grown to be so beautiful,” my father said through a proud smile. He looked to Aunt Ash and nudged her teasingly with his shoulder. “You didn't mention that.”

Aunt Ash shook her head and lifted her eyes skyward playfully. I missed watching them banter. Having them here made me realize that I longed for their presence in my life way more than I was ever willing to admit. It reminded me of the gaping hole I've been ignoring since they've been gone.

“Storie, I'm sure you've had some earth-shattering revelations since coming back home. I'm so sorry I didn't prepare you for this world soon enough.” Aunt Ash jumped right in, her face scrunched into her signature look of concern.

“Lighten up, Asher. She's doing just fine on her own,” my dad comforted.

“Actually, we've asked you here to answer some questions. I'm not sure how long we have to talk,” I explained, remembering that Remy said there might be a time limit on our visit.

“Anything,” they both agreed in unison.

I turned toward Aunt Ash, deciding it was finally time to ask the question that haunted me for years, even while she was alive.

“Why did Rayner come to visit us that day?”

She didn't need clarification on which day I was talking about. She already knew. It was the day that our lives changed forever.

The day she sealed her fate.

“He was coming to collect you.”

“For what?”

“Rayner was an old family friend,” she began, looking over to my father regretfully. “We thought we could trust him with the knowledge of who you were. He was just getting the Movement off the ground and a lot of his ideas in the beginning made sense. But over time, he got more radical. Then, Quarter families were hunting Counters based on false claims, and we were forced to leave Beacon Grove to protect you.

“Before we left, your parents agreed to bring you back when you were old enough to fight the Quarters if need be. By the time you were eighteen, he changed his plans. He wanted to use you as a weapon against them, just as their fathers did.”

“That sounds like I should have known what I was much sooner,” I accused, glaring at her.

I hated myself for reverting back to my petulant ways, but so much pain could have been avoided if she'd just been honest with me.

“Yes, that was the plan,” my father started. He clamped his mouth shut when Aunt Ash held her finger up to stop him.

“When Mason died, I didn't know how to proceed. I thought he would be the one to handle it on his own time, but I was face-planted into single parenthood and completely unprepared. I decided at first to tell you on your tenth birthday. Then, when the time came, I couldn't do it. So, I pushed the benchmark back over and over until before I knew it, you were receiving acceptance letters to colleges I knew you'd never be able to attend. Not when so many witches were hunting you and you had no idea how to protect yourself.”

She exhaled a deep breath, the lines in her face only deepening with regret. “I'm so sorry, Storie. I thought we had more time together.”

Her face tilted down at her hands and my father wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“I know your deaths weren't accidents,” I began, and then paused.

Was it okay to talk to spirits about their death?

My dad nodded his head solemnly. “No, they weren't. And you know who was responsible. Anyone who stood in his way while he was getting the Movement going was simply eliminated, just like the people he was supposedly fighting against.”

All traces of anger or resentment were gone from his voice. He had already come to peace with what was done to him. It was only me who dwelled on it anymore.

That led me to my next question. “Why did you lie to me about my mother's death?”