The older woman hovered over us as she escorted us into her house as if she was worried that the minute she had turned her back, Sofia and Anne would throw us out again. They followed after her like shadows like they were, indeed, waiting for the chance.

She led us into a small room that opened directly off the foyer. The room was panelled with wood and lit by its many windows. It's only free wall was crammed with a patchwork of picture frames, their glass faces glinting in the sunlight. The room held no other furniture except a large oval table that dominated the space. Eight matching chairs were tucked close around its edge.

Though the room was tightly packed, it felt welcoming. Cozy.

I tried to catch Polly's eyes as we were shuffled further in, but she seemed... distracted. Her gaze was far away like she was lost in some thought. I wanted to ask her what was on her mind but the woman pushed us toward two of the chairs at the table. She watched us take our seat and then headed off into some unknown corner of the house.

Sofia and Anne, thankfully, made no move to throw us out. Instead, they stalked to the far side of the table and sat down exactly opposite of us, both of them settling in to glare at us. With their stiff backs and hard eyes, they were like matching gargoyles. If I hadn't thought they were related before, I was sure of it now.

Lillian wanted to hold their gaze like a challenge, but I refused. I tore my eyes away and instead studied the room. I realized then that I had been wrong about the pictures on the wall. The frames, in fact, did not hold pictures... They held mirrors. Mirrors of every size and shape, every kind of frame, curling gilt to carved wood, patterned the wall. Despite their strange sizes, they fit together so precisely that it was like a perfect if haphazard puzzle.

I wondered briefly why someone would have such a collection, then, as I stared, something dark and quick flashed through them, darting by. I started and then turned, searching for what had run past.

But it was just us in the room, all seated at the table.

Anne was smirking at me now.

"Alright," the older woman chimed as she swept back into the room. She was carrying a large silver platter topped with a china tea set. She placed it on the table in front of us, crossing the unconscious lines of battle.

She handed out cups—white china with pink roses for me—and began to pour. Dark tea streamed out into each cup, leaving leaves swirling at the bottom. She placed the pot down before reaching for a small pot with a spoon. "I'm afraid I don't have milk," she began, "but would you like some sugar?"

Finally, her eyes met mine.

Her face fell. "Oh dear," she said. "you saw something in the mirrors, didn't you?"

I swallowed. Was it that obvious?

"She did," Anne answered for me.

The older woman pursed her lips, putting the dish of sugar back down on the tray. "It takes considerable power to see anything in those mirrors," she said, before turning back to Anne. "I thought you told me she had no psychic powers."

Anne shrugged. "She didn't seem to, at the time. Just that... hole."

Hole. I glanced down at my scarred arm. Anne, of all people, had been the first person to point out that there was something more than wrong with it...

"Maybe whoever is hitching a ride is starting to rub off on the girl," Sofia snarked. "Just how long have you been in there, Lillian?"

Hm? Lillian thought. She had been the one zoning out now. Is the lady back?

"She wasn't listening," I explained, grimacing.

Sofia inhaled deeply through her nose, her jaw clenching hard. "Sorry, am I boring you, Lillian?"

"A little," Lillian replied through me.

Sofia's face flushed red as she jumped from her seat, the chair toppling over behind her. "Get out!"

"Dear, this is my house," the older woman said. "You don't get to make such demands." Her voice was perfectly even and calm, but it was enough to make Sofia sink back into her chair.

She glowered. "You're the one who always said we have to be careful about who we allow to cross the threshold," she grumbled. "And now you're just going to let her waltz in here? Do you know what shit she's carrying along—"

"That's precisely why I let them in," the older woman replied, her voice a fraction sharper. "That girl," she nodded at me, "will die without our help. I am sure of it."

Sofia blinked and then glanced away, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

Anne's mouth fell open.

Polly snapped out of whatever daze she was in.

I just felt numb.

Lillian didn't react at all, which told me she already knew.

"You can't stay in there forever," the woman said, staring past my eyes to Lillian. "You may have stopped it for now—stopping up the hole with your own soul. But the dam will break," she tore her eyes away to glance down at my arm, "and then..." Her voice trailed away.

She didn't have to finish. I could guess. Matilda had already explained that the hole in my arm was acting like some kind of portal—an open door that anything could venture through and take hold of me.

A blurry memory from that drunken night surfaced. The many-armed-thing—just another form of the Malix—swallowing up the ghostly girls who got in its path. It wanted to swallow me up, too.

And then Lillian's gurgling voice in my ear. I can help you.

Did Lillian come in to keep the Malix out?

But if she did, as the woman said, she couldn't do it forever...

The woman gave me a gentle smile. "This is why I want to help," she said.

"There's no helping her," Sofia grumbled under her breath.

"And where do you expect me to do?" the older woman, snapped, finally fed up. "Send her away?"

"You did it before, and she was fine," Sofia sniffed.

"Back then, I thought she could handle it on her own. Back then, I didn't see her dying. Now, where will I send her? To the ever-helpful Gathered?" She jabbed her finger at me. "Is this not the woman you left The Gathered for?"

Lillian gave a sharp inhale that only I heard.

Sofia's face flushed. "I didn't leave for her, I left because of her," she snapped at us, trying to keep up her tough facade, but the blossom of pink all the way to her ears made it hard to take seriously.

"W-Why?" Lillian stuttered. I felt her shock. She couldn't believe that someone who had been so loyal had left their beloved order... for her.

Sofia softened, just a little, as she looked me over. "I didn't think they'd actually... actually let you die."

"You shouldn't have been surprised," Lillian said. Her response was even, but inside, with me, I could feel her trembling anger.

"Well, I was," Sofia said with a huff. "And I... I lost faith. In them. In myself. In what I thought I was meant to do... I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't pretend."

Lillian folded my brow into a frown. "So, then, why won't you help me now?"

Sofia ground her teeth together. "I took a lot of flack for leaving, you know. They don't like it when you leave. They keep tabs on me, you know, even now. They're always lurking around here, watching me..." Her eyes went a little blank. She took a deep breath and recentered herself. "Which makes it all the harder to know that they were fucking right about you. You are fucking poison. You poison everyone you touch." She gestured at me.

Lillian kept my expression straight but I could feel Sofia's words cut into her. "You don't understand."

"What's to understand? I can see it for myself!" She leaned across the table and pointed at my arm. I pulled my arm off the table and slid it underneath. "Look what you've done to this girl! Curse or not, that wound you inflicted will never let her be safe."

My heart stuttered. What? Never?

"I didn't inflict it," Lillian replied. "The Malix did."

"Malix?" Anne asked, looking at Sofia. "Is that the thing that pulled me through the glass case?"

Sofia glanced at Anne but didn't say anything, but the red drained from her face. She looked back at us. "Whatever it was, Lillian, you released it on this girl... on the rest of us."

"And that's why I'm trying to put it right!" Lillian snapped back. "I want to help her, too! To make up for what I've done!"

"Too late!" Sofia screamed back.

"Enough!" the woman interjected. "I am not here to judge this Lillian woman for previous missteps, Sofia. What's done is done. It is not my concern. My concern is this girl."

She turned then, looking at me—not Lillian, me, I was sure of it. She reached out and offered me her hand. "Let me take a look at you."

I stared at her for a minute before pulling my own hand out from under the table

She shook her head. "No, dear, your other hand."

I had offered her my left hand—my normal hand. I exchanged them, pulling back the sleeve on my right arm so she could get a better look. Its scars looked all the more vivid as I reached across the dark red wood of the table.

"Thank you," she said. She clasped it gently and sat in the chair next to me. "I'm Octavia, by the way." She bobbed my captive hand as if we were shaking them. "You know my niece Anne, and you're somewhat acquainted with my daughter, Sofia. But it's nice to meet you. Properly, at least."

I gave her a weak smile in return. "R-Rachel."

"Poor thing," the woman—Octavia—said, turning my hand over so that it was palm up. Her fingers, soft and quick, moved over the ridges of flesh that criss-crossed my palm. "You never had any idea of what a mess you were walking in to..."

I shook my head. "It was kind of... unavoidable."

Octavia nodded, still tracing my scars. "Fate can work in strange ways. But fate can change." She paused, studying the flesh of my hand. "I can see a man. Someone safe, but also dangerous, for reasons beyond his control..."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Sofia's head snap up and stare at me. "No way, not that dude again—"

"Leave him out of it," Lillian hissed, glaring at Sofia.

Octavia's flickered, the pupils pulsing as she tried to lock in on Lillian behind my eyes. "How can we? He's at the center of all of it. His fate is wrapped up in it, just as hers is, just as yours is..." Then her face fell. "And he's in danger."

I nodded. I was blinking a lot, trying to keep the tears from gathering in my eyes. Even thinking about it...

"His danger could be your salvation," Octavia continued, tilting her head. "But you don't want that, do you?"

I shook my head. "I—we—need to get him back. Matilda has him."

"Matilda?" Sofia gasped. She dropped her voice then. "Good luck with that."

This time it was me who shot her a sharp look.

"And you already have a plan," Octavia said, then her face fell into a kind of... disappointment. "Not a very good one, you have to admit."

My chest felt tight. "W-We don't have other options," I sputtered. It sounded more like an apology than a defence.

"Then it's a good thing you came to me," she said with a smile, dropping my hand and picking up her tea cup and saucer with a dainty delicacy. "Fate is funny like that."

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