Cursed Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series by Carissa Andrews (best book club books txt) đź“•
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- Author: Carissa Andrews
Read book online «Cursed Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series by Carissa Andrews (best book club books txt) 📕». Author - Carissa Andrews
All of the pressure from the Moirai’s sins decreases, and my body begins to feel lighter than it has in…forever.
Suddenly, the box closes of its own volition as the final sin has been consumed.
The lightness doesn’t last long. I double over, groping at my stomach. The force of this final moment is incredible, like I’m somehow being pulled into the gravity of a black hole.
Then everything goes a brilliant bright white as my entire existence implodes.
Chapter 26
Memories
The energy bubble that surrounded the four of us bursts.
Nothing could have prepared me for this moment. Even if there was a way to prepare, I doubt there was ever a sin-eater who has done something like this, anyway.
As the white light pulls back, I’m left standing in the middle of an ever-shifting landscape. Days, nights, and people move all around me in rapid succession—as if the world has somehow managed to go into a super-speed rewind.
But it’s more than that. All around me, even the location shifts. I go from standing in the middle of the destruction of the hospital room to an open field full of snow. Then, the courtyard of the manor, the middle of a crowded mall, a beautiful restaurant…
Even the clothes I’m wearing changes from moment to moment, shifting with the various choices that may or may not come to pass. It all depends on where I land when this crazy train stops.
The effect is dizzying, as things continue to shift around me. I close my eyes, allowing the motion and swirling sensation to roll past me and pray that it comes to an end soon.
When I open my eyes again, the location seems more settled as I stand in the middle of the sitting room at Blackwood Manor. The decor of the room changes ever so slightly, a Christmas tree in the corner by the window, then on the opposite wall. Stockings hung by the fireplace, then thick fir tree garland decorated with red bows.
What stops my heart, though, is when I see my mom walk through the manor. In one frame, she’s stoking a fire, the next she’s placing ornaments on the Christmas tree. In another, she’s sitting on the couch and I find myself wishing for all I’m worth that whatever I did—whatever happens now—I was able to make things right with my parents, with my whole family.
The fact that I’m seeing my mom at the manor gives me hope I may have at least accomplished one good thing in all of this.
When the shift finally stops, I’m left standing beside the fireplace. My hand is outstretched, as if I was about to pick up a picture on the mantle. I continue the movement, reaching for the picture and pulling it from the shelf.
The image is of Abigail and Warren standing outside the manor. It actually reminds me of one I’ve seen before—but the memory is fading too quickly. There’s just one difference… Rather than being young, they are both easily in their seventies and surrounded by at least twenty other people. They range in age from their fifties down to small children and babies held in arms. All of them look so incredibly happy.
“Sweetie, do you think you can help me with the place settings? Our guests should be here any minute.”
I spin around, surprised and relieved to see Mom walking into the room with a tray of thick crystal glasses. She places the tray on the small drinks table beside a large punch bowl filled with what looks like egg nog.
I blink back my relief and smile. “Sure, absolutely,” I breathe, grinning at her like a crazy person.
When she faces me, her eyebrows tug in and her expression turns quizzical. “Are you okay? You look a little—” she scrunches her face, “odd.”
I return the picture to the mantle and rush over to her, suddenly consumed by the desire to know she’s real.
“I’m fine,” I murmur. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her in tight, burying my face in the crook of her neck.
She chuckles softly, but her hands float around to my back as she embraces me in return. “What’s gotten into you tonight? Did you break into the egg nog already?”
A giggle bursts from my throat. Her hair tickles the side of my cheek as I shake my head. Taking another breath, inhaling her scent, I pull away and step back.
I fight back tears as the emotions of two very separate lifetimes collide. So many of the memories from before are fading, drifting from my mind like smoke in the wind. In their place, new memories begin to take root.
“No, nothing like that. I’m just really…” Movement catches my eye and I turn to the doorway as I quietly say, “happy.”
“Have you seen my blue tie, dear?” Dad says, walking to the middle of the room and fiddling with the cuff of his shirt. “I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”
My mouth drops open and I swear my heart stops beating.
“Dad,” I breathe, racing from my mom over to the middle of the room. With the same ecstatic energy, I throw my arms around him and squeeze him tight.
“Whoa, someone’s been hitting the eggnog a bit early,” Dad laughs, patting me on the shoulder.
“That’s what I said,” Mom says, chuckling softly. “And have you tried looking in the closet?”
“The closet? Now, why would I look in there?” Dad says, his hand now resting on my shoulder as he turns to face Mom.
I exhale softly, trying to separate myself from my past memories and whatever this new present brings. Neither one of them seem aware of the momentous moment happening right now, anyway…and I’m not sure how long I’ll remember it either.
Mom’s here… Dad’s alive.
I can’t imagine a better outcome than that. Yet, something tugs at the back of my mind, and I can’t seem to put my finger on what it is. It’s on the edge of my memories, yet the more I try to focus
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