Free creepy hollow 05.5 - scarlett by rachel morgan

you one too.” She turned and swept from the room before Beth could say another word.
    Beth returned to the bed and finished pulling the blankets straight. Her elbow knocked Thoren’s hourglass off the little stool that stood beside the bed, but her magic managed to freeze it in the air before it struck the ground. Pleased with herself for successfully employing useful magic, she replaced the hourglass on the stool. The hourglass was enchanted, of course, like many of the items in the witches’ home. Not only did it give off a dim glow so she could read the time even in the dark, but after the sand had flowed past all twelve marks, the hourglass would automatically spin around and begin again to mark the passing of the next twelve hours.
    “Here it is,” Tilda announced, returning with a bundle of black smoke in her arms. “Try it on.”
    Beth didn’t need to be told twice. She stood behind the wardrobe door and stripped her warm winter clothing off. After stepping into the dress and pulling it up, she looked into the mirror and—“Okay, why is mine so much more revealing than yours?” she demanded. “This neckline is far too low.”
    “Because, dear Scarlett, you are stunning and you should show off your magnificent beauty.”
    Beth snorted. “I’d hardly call it magnificent. And since when did ‘beauty’ become a synonym for ‘cleavage?’”
    “Scarlett,” Tilda admonished. “I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror, but I doubt you see yourself the way the rest of us do.”
    Beth huffed out a sigh. “Well, we can blame siren magic for that.”
    “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
    “Isn’t it?”
    “Of course not. Do you need help with the laces?”
    “Laces?” Beth felt the back of the dress with one gloved hand. “Oh, terrific. There are laces. This is basically a corset.”
    “It’s basically stunning, is what it is.” Tilda stepped around the wardrobe door and reached for the laces. When she’d finished tugging them tight—tighter than Beth felt necessary—she stepped back and said, “What do you think?”
    Beth surveyed herself in the mirror. The gloves looked silly; they ended at her wrists and were too puffy to be considered elegant. For a strapless dress like this, she needed slim gloves that reached above her elbows. Satin, or perhaps lace, if she could find lace thick enough to keep her skin from coming into contact with anyone else’s. The dress itself, though … Well, Tilda was right. It was stunning. But it pulled in her waist and pushed up her chest in a way that reminded her of the red dress. The one she’d worn for Jack. In a quiet voice, she said, “I can’t wear this.”
    “Why not?”
    Because only Jack should see me like this . Jack, whom she thought of less and less as each day passed. The realization filled her with immense guilt, and this dress only magnified that distressing emotion. “It just … isn’t me.”
    Tilda raised an eyebrow. “You’re a siren. You were born for a dress like this.” When Beth didn’t reply, she said, “Don’t you feel beautiful? Don’t you feel like you could conquer the world in this dress?”
    Slowly, Beth placed one hand on her hip and tilted her head. She swayed her hips so that the smokey skirt swished around her legs. She turned a little to the side and looked across her shoulder at herself. The thing was … she almost did feel like she could conquer the world in this dress—and she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
    “That’s right, Scar,” Tilda said. “It’s all about confidence. Find it and hold onto it and never let it go.”
    “How?” Beth murmured. She’d been searching for confidence her whole life, and it finally felt as though it might be within her grasp.
    Tilda’s reflection looked back at her. “I am independent. I am strong. I am powerful . Tell yourself that enough times, and you won’t ever believe anything else.”
    “Is that how you were brought up? Being told