Free Thief of Lies by Brenda Drake Page B

cameras, and now I knew the reason for it…to stay hidden. But why?
    All these years I had based my mom’s contentment on the one video we had of her. It was my fourth Halloween, and we were dressed like angels, dancing and giggling around the kitchen. The picture was jerky because Pop was laughing along with us while he was recording. I had always believed Mom was happily in love with my stepfather, but now I wasn’t so sure.
    The next item Carrig slid over shocked me. I caught my breath as I scanned the letter written in my mother’s curly script. My head fogged, the edges of my perceived reality of my parents’ happy marriage vaporizing with each word I read.
    My dearest Carrig,
    I will never love another as I love you. I must flee to protect our little one. I fear we are the prophecy. I know of a Pure Witch who will place a protection on the baby and me. Please don’t follow us. It will mean death for all three of us. I pray that one day our family can be together. If this ends badly, know you have made me happier than anything else in my life. I risk all for our love, and I will die protecting our baby.
    Always yours, M*
    I dropped the letter on the table. It isn’t real. It’s a fake. She loved Pop. She married him.
    But there was no mistaking my mother’s characteristic curly M with a star at the end of the line for flair. Every birthday, Christmas, and Easter card to Pop from her—stacked in our memory box back home—had the same exact signature.
    Nick and Afton watched me with those concerned gazes again, so I stared out the window, trying to regain my composure. People rushed by on the sidewalk, and vehicles braked, jolted forward, and sped off on the boulevard. A black cat slinked across the street, reminding me of Nana’s cat, Baron.
    “I’m not expecting you to believe me right off,” Carrig said, bringing my attention back to the table. “But think of the events of the last few days, and ask yourself if it might be true.”
    “Why didn’t someone tell me?” I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. “I’m sorry. This is a lot to take in.” I took the paper napkin off my lap and wiped my nose with it. “My mother’s letter mentioned a witch?”
    “I’m not too sure I should be telling you this part,” Carrig said. “You haven’t taken the rest so well, yeah?”
    “I’m fine. What could be worse than all the other stuff that’s happened? At least you’re not a deadbeat dad, like I’d thought. My. Entire. Life.” I lifted my glass and took a swig of juice, trying to seem unaffected, even though I wasn’t. What I really wanted to do was go work out, kick some bags, and gather my thoughts.
    “All right, then.” He took another sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. “There be only one Pure Witch in these parts skilled enough to master a shielding charm. Her name be Katy Kearns.”
    Juice spurted from my mouth, spraying Nick and the table.
    Nick flinched. “ Gross , Gia!”
    I set the glass back on the table. “You said Katy Kearns?”
    “Yes.”
    “ Nana? ”
    The bell on the door jingled. I’d stopped checking to see who came into the café, but Nick’s shocked expression caused me to turn. “Nana?” I croaked out.
    Nana regarded Carrig. “You might have told me where to meet. If it weren’t for Baron, I wouldn’t have found you.”
    “Me apologies,” Carrig said. “The area be unfamiliar to me, so I was not entirely certain where we’d end up.”
    Nana dropped her designer tote bag on the floor by the table and smoothed a stray strand of hair back toward her chignon. Pop and Nana had the same striking red hair, but hers was streaked with gray. Nana was short and petite, while Pop was big and tall. He took after his dad instead of Nana. Wearing white slacks, a navy blue blouse, and a printed scarf tied elegantly around her neck, she was dressed as if she just stepped off the cover of an over-fifty magazine. At sixty-three, Nana looked younger and was in