Free The Lingering Grace by Jessica Arnold Page B

that Alice was anorexic, but whenever she expressed concern, it was always with a tinge of envy. “You don’t eat enough, sweetie,” she would say whenever Alice ran out the door without breakfast. “I just wish I could get away with your diet. I’d never have to go to the gym again.”
    But then again her mom didn’t know that Alice raided the pantry at night and had a particular weakness for cookies. Alice didn’t mention it to her either; so far she’d managed to pass the blame to Jeremy whenever her mom agonized over how quickly they went through Oreos.
    She had just popped open her chips when Eva tapped her on the shoulder. Alice tried to act as unflustered as possible, knowing there was nothing more off-putting than an overeager friend.
    “Hi,” she said, holding out the bag. “Want one?”
    Eva’s nose crinkled, but she took one tiny chip and nibbled the edge.
    “Thanks,” she said. Then, staring at Alice with unnerving intensity, she asked, “How long have you known about … ?”
    Alice didn’t need to ask what she meant. “A few months now.”
    “Only a few months?” Eva’s voice was hushed—reverent, almost. “It took me at least six months to get the hang of ice.”
    “I wouldn’t say I’ve gotten the hang of it. I only found the book last weekend.”
    Eva gaped.
    “You’re joking? Only a couple days … you’re only an acolyte then.”
    “‘Acolyte’?”
    Eva nodded. She sat on the wall and looked Alice over, like a doctor diagnosing a particularly interesting patient.
    “That’s what we call the new ones.”
    “We? New whats?” Alice pulled herself up to sit next to Eva, holding the bag of chips tightly, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
    “I joined an online group. There are a lot of witches out there.”
    “An online group of … witches? ” Alice thought of Elizabeth and the girl—the witch—and shivered remembering those black, black eyes. When she thought of online communities, she thought of normal people staring at computer screens, not of powerful and potentially dangerous magic users. How many of these people were there, anyway? The curse she had faced was a century old; it hadn’t occurred to her that magic might have found its way into the Internet age as well. Though the more she thought about it, the less surprised she was. Didn’t they say you could find anything online?
    Eva must have mistook Alice’s surprise for moral deliberation because she leaned forward and said reassuringly, “Alice, there’s nothing wrong with being a witch. It’s just a word. It just means someone who can do magic. Magic isn’t evil and neither are witches.” She paused, then added emphatically, “Magic is good .”
    Alice nearly laughed—talk about an overgeneralization. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d been cursed,” she said, fully expecting Eva to backpedal.
    But this argument didn’t have the effect Alice expected. Eva hardly batted an eye, as though battling a curse was par for the course these days. Instead of revising her opinion, Eva merely asked, “Is that how you found out about magic? Are you still trying to break the curse? I can’t make any promises, but I might be able to help.”
    “No, I broke it myself,” Alice assured her. The sentence seemed inadequate to describe what it had taken to escape Elizabeth’s spell. She could still remember her panic as walls of mist closed in on her from every side. She still remembered the shrill sound of the breaking mirror.
    “It’s no wonder you’ve caught on so quickly,” Eva said. “Breaking the curse must have taken a lot of skill. I’m sure conjuring ice is nothing compared to that.”
    Maybe she was digging for details on the curse, but Alice didn’t really want to discuss it—and she had a more pressing question. If she was going to find out the truth about Eva’s sister’s death, this may be her best chance. She didn’t want to risk waiting.
    “Your sister … ” she began, but stopped