“You said you fixed that.”
Scarlett hadn’t admitted it to anyone else, not even Mei. But a few nights after she altered Jackson’s memory (and after several mugs of Etta’s infamous mulled wine), she’d admitted it to Vivi. In fact, she’d admitted a lot of things to Vivi. More than she ever would’ve pictured herself doing in the past.
“Yes, but it never should have happened in the first place,” Scarlett replied, her stomach doing an unpleasant lurch when she thought about the moment she’d seen Jackson in the philosophy class they were both in this year. His eyes had stayed on hers for a second too long, and she wondered if somehow the spell had been broken. But then his gaze moved on and he’d said something snarky about social contract theory. As relieved as Scarlett was that the spell had held, the moment had been bittersweet. In spite of everything, she’d wanted him to remember their connection on some primordial level beyond memory. But that was silly and ran counter to her very actions. You did the right thing, she reminded herself. There was no other way.
“But you did the right thing in the end,” Vivi said now, making Scarlett wonder if her Little might have a touch of affinity for Swords mind-reading magic after all. “That’s what matters. But doing the right thing doesn’t mean being a nun, Scarlett. Why can’t you start again with Jackson? He doesn’t ever have to know about before.”
As Scarlett considered Vivi’s words, she realized something. Even though it was Mason who had broken her heart, it was Jackson’s kiss she couldn’t forget, not Mason’s. It was Jackson’s lips that she could still feel on hers, not Mason’s. But she’d had to give Jackson up, and unlike his, her memory was very much intact. She couldn’t forget how he’d made her feel. But she was still a witch. And he was still a human. And she couldn’t imagine being with him without telling him the truth all over again.
Scarlett shook her head. “It wouldn’t be the same,” she said firmly.
Vivi smiled sadly but nodded as if she understood. The two girls fell silent again as Vivi went back to work. Finally, Vivi tapped her shoulder. “Okay, take a look.”
Scarlett cracked an eye open. Then both her eyes widened. The girl in the mirror looked both familiar and not. She had Scarlett’s same brown eyes and deep brown skin. But her cheekbones seemed just a touch higher and sharper, her eyelashes longer, her lips a shade fuller—or maybe that was just an illusion thanks to the bright red color Vivi had given them.
Her curls were held up with dozens of glittering pins shaped like little fall leaves, burnt orange and garnet and peridot. Her hair fell in a cascade of perfect ringlets down her back to her black cocktail dress.
Normally the harvest-moon ritual was a time to celebrate the fruits of their labor before they buckled down for the winter. But tonight it’d be a more somber affair, honoring the cycle of life, death, and rebirth.
It seemed fitting, since Tiffany’s and Dahlia’s funerals had been held earlier in the week.
It also reminded Scarlett exactly how unfit she was to lead anybody, let alone Kappa House. Even if she looked the part, she didn’t feel it, not inside.
“You don’t like it?” Over her shoulder, Vivi bit her lip.
Scarlett shook her head. “No, the glamour is perfect, Vivi, thank you.”
She rose and crossed her room to the balcony doors. Outside, she could already see their sisters in the backyard. Juliet stoked the bonfire, Jess at her side adding bundles of herbs to the wood at intervals. Those two hadn’t spent more than a minute apart since everything went down.
Scarlett was glad they had each other. After these past few weeks, she wanted to hold tight to those she loved too.
Especially her sisters. Sisters who she couldn’t bear the thought of letting down again. “What if you all vote me in and I just . . . what if I screw it up?” Scarlett’s breath fogged the glass. She spoke so softly, she wasn’t sure Vivi would hear.
But a heartbeat later, her Little materialized at her side. “I think the fact that you’re so concerned means you’re more ready than ever to lead.”
Scarlett laughed.
“I mean it.” Vivi caught her eye. “Great leaders are born of necessity, not certainty. We need you, Scarlett. More than ever. But if you stood here and told me you had no fears, that you were completely certain you’d be the best president the Ravens ever had, then I’d be worried. After all, we know what wanting power for power’s sake looks like.”
Tiffany.
Scarlett had spent so much time these past couple of weeks sorting through her feelings about her best friend. She’d probably always wrestle with them, because deep down, a big part of her still loved Tiffany. And seeing the way Tiffany’s mother had crumpled at her funeral, weeping, had broken Scarlett’s heart. She knew why Tiffany did what she did.
And that realization scared her. What if love led her down the wrong path one day too?
But no. If nothing else, witnessing what Tiffany had become—seeing her horrible end—had shown her what waited on the other side of wickedness, had shown her the consequences of the lure of untold power. Tiffany had taught her that much. Scarlett just had to believe she’d never forget the lesson, never repeat her friend’s mistakes.
And in the meantime . . . Vivi was right. Her sisters needed her. Scarlett still wasn’t sure she deserved to lead them, but if they asked her to, for their sakes, she would.
Kappa first, last, and always.
“I’m ready,” she told Vivi’s reflection.
Her sister smiled and reached for the door. “Good. Then go lead these witches.”
* * *
Mei and Etta did most of the ritual setup, with Juliet’s and Jess’s help. The freshmen had pitched in too, baking the buttermilk loaves and mulling hot apple cider. Mei and Etta had prepared the altar, overflowing with apples and pears, rose hips and blackberries, winter melon and persimmons. It was a time for feasting, for celebration.
But they’d also brought over a chair and a small wrought-iron table from the greenhouse, and on the table they’d set a full plate of food and an overflowing cup of wine. They’d draped the chair with Dahlia’s red ceremonial robes and adorned the table with red candles and some deep purple orchids Etta must have picked from the greenhouse. It was a symbolic place for Dahlia in their midst.
It made Scarlett’s heart ache to see it. But she knew Dahlia would appreciate it. She’d loved Kappa with all her entire being. In the end, she’d given everything for them.
Scarlett wouldn’t let her down.
Scarlett pulled out Minnie’s tarot cards and laid them on the table alongside all the other witches’ decks and began to speak.
“Sisters, thank you for gathering tonight.” Scarlett eyed them one by one. Everyone had dressed for the occasion—they all wore black cocktail dresses, except Juliet, who wore an elegant black three-piece suit. The black served a dual purpose: Black for ravens. Black for mourning. And each woman wore her sorority charm on a simple chain around her neck. “The past few weeks have been a trying time for us all. We’ve suffered loss and betrayal. We’ve had one of our own taken from us well before her time.” All the sisters looked to Dahlia’s seat. “And we watched another break our deepest, most sacred vows.”