The Disappearance of Emily: Destiny Falls Mystery & Magic Series Book 2 by Elizabeth Pantley (best books under 200 pages .txt) 📗

at the connection. “He said she was made to be a mother, and she took to it from the moment she knew she was pregnant with Axel. I heard him telling Grandmother that once when he complained that Jade had no mothering instincts at all.”

Indigo chimed in, “I heard that she was devoted to Axel and didn’t put him down for the first three months of his life. She even slept with him right beside her. And if anyone tried to tell her that it was extreme, she shut them down like an angry mother lion.”

Sapphire nodded. “And apparently, she was a kind, patient mother. The exact opposite of Jade. One time I heard Jade and Dad fighting. She was yelling and blamed his lack of love for her on Emily and said she refused to be compared to an invisible saint. Those were her exact words. An invisible saint.”

“Wow,” I said. “If she was such a devoted mother, how could she leave a newborn baby and never look back?”

Indigo shook her head. “Dad said it made no sense that she’d leave, but he’d never elaborate. He shut down any questions we had. He said it was ancient history and not to be dug up.”

After all those revelations, we chatted quietly about less intense topics until we all started to yawn. We cleaned up our dishes and I thanked them profusely for such a wonderful evening.

“No thanks necessary, sweetheart,” said Indigo “That’s what sisters are for.”

10

The Witch

High at the top of a mountain, overlooking Destiny Falls, was a cave. It was no ordinary cave. Well, it once was an ordinary cave, but that was many years ago. Now, it was home to an angry, exiled witch.

The witch was in a terrible mood. And because of that, hikers who made their way near would often hear the howl of a disturbing wild animal. Some thought it was a coyote, some swore it was a bizarre owl. The truth was that it was the witch’s nightly cry. She had suffered through the second of her near successful attempts at escape. Twice in forty years! And both times, she’d been so close, yet failed because of the ineptitude of the minions she had chosen to aid her.

She had finally created the perfect potion, but those fools did not complete the steps necessary for it to work. Now, it would not perform as planned. It had become too weak. Within the potion, she promised them she had hidden a special jolt that would have broken her free of this dungeon-like cave.

In her despair following this failure, she had used up some unused potion to remodel part of her cave. She’d created a replica of the genie’s bottle from her favorite show, I Dream of Jeanie. She had already grown tired of the ridiculous purple velvet, the gazillion fancy throw pillows, and the freakin’ shiny sequins everywhere.

While she loved looking young and beautiful again, she’d grown bored with dressing in the harem outfit and braiding her long, now-blond hair. She’d take her usual low-maintenance, white hairdo any day. Yet she was saving up the leftover potion for something bigger. That meant she was stuck in her Jeanie world for a while longer. She was angry at herself for using some of the magic so frivolously.

It wasn’t even her fault she was stuck here. It was all because of her two wretched sisters and her horribly cruel father. The anger that festered inside her was deep and powerful.

Now, at last, one of her sisters was being sloppy. And, in her blunder, she had left an opening. An opening that turned this angry witch positively giddy with possibilities. It was time to try something different.

11

The glow from last evening with my sisters remained with me and it carried me through my morning. My run felt shorter and lighter. The day seemed sunnier. My oatmeal was even tastier, if you can believe that.

“Oy with the poetry, already. I get it. You had fun at girl’s night.”

“It was more than just fun, Latifa. It was transcendent. Having sisters is life-changing.”

“Speaking of life-changing, your grandmother’s going to call you down to her office this morning.”

“How do you know that?” I asked her.

She just stared at me, as if I should know that answer.

“Oh. Chanel.”

Just then my phone pinged. A text message from Cleobella. This was momentous. It was the first time she’d ever texted me. It felt oddly exhilarating. As if a sign that I was now a real member of this family.

Your grandmother requests your

presence in her office in one hour.

Thank you, Cleobella.

I’ll be there.

Of course, you will.

You would think that might be offensive, but she was just being honest.

“Looks like you’re right, I’ve been summoned. And if Grandmother beckons, you go. There isn’t any other option.”

“Well, I suppose if you were dead you wouldn’t show up,” said Latifa. “But that would the only excuse the grande dame would accept.” She giggled, then spoke with an English accent for some reason, “Oh, sorry, Madam. Can’t make it today, I’m dead.”

“Can you please shelve the death references? I’m still shell-shocked from the ferry captain’s demise.”

“Ah! I can’t say dead, but I can say demise? Hmm. How about departed? Expired? Kaput?”

“None of those, please.” I shuddered with the memory. “I have time to squeeze in a bit of yoga, and then, if you’re a good cat, you can help me pick an outfit.”

“You know you’d let me help, even if I wasn’t a good cat. You can’t manage to dress properly without me, Doll. And let’s be honest, you’re going to peek in the teardrop mirror again, aren’t you? I’ve been watching you sneak in there.”

“Can you blame me?” I said as I opened the door to my yoga room and walked directly over to the teardrop mirror. Ever since I saw Granana’s little white head as she did her step aerobics, it had only been acting like a normal mirror. But I