Flames in the Midst (The Jade Hale Series) by Sarah Reckenwald Page A

she, too, had aged, but she still resembled the girl I had last seen being dragged from the burning barroom.  Her eyes held the same compassion as Madilyn’s touch held.  She, too, knew what I had just been through, and even though it had been years ago for her, I could see the night my mother died still held pain for her as well. 
    Stefanie came in behind us and closed the door.  Only the four of us stood in this room, but I could hear other people elsewhere in the house.  Amy approached me and wrapped her arms around me.  I didn’t want to, but the tears came against my will.  Before I knew it, I was sobbing into Amy’s shoulder with Madilyn calmly rubbing my back.  Although my mother had died when I was only three, she also died just last night.  Almost as devastating, seeing my aunt one last time brought up all the emotions I had been suppressing for almost two years now since her death.  So I stood there, crying alternately for my mother, for my aunt, and for the position I now found myself in.  A double orphan.  A witch.  Alone.  Both burdened and driven by a mission of revenge.
    I have no idea how long I stood there sobbing.  Madilyn and Amy simply stood with me.  They didn’t try to console me with empty words.  They didn’t try to convince me that my crying was a waste of time or try to change my mood.  They didn’t try to rush me or even move me from where I stood.  They were sentinels of protection while I let my pain and sorrow rush out.  As I began to compose myself, I realized now it would be even more difficult to turn them down.  This just wasn’t the life I wanted.  They would have to understand.
    “Thank you,” I managed as I lifted my head from Amy’s shoulder.  Stefanie stood in front of me with a box of tissues.  I took the box, and Madilyn guided me to the floral couch Amy had been sitting on when I walked in the door.  I sat down and wiped my face with three or four tissues.
    “I don’t know what came over me,” I offered as a meager apology.
    “It’s okay,” Madilyn consoled in a soothing voice, “you’ve been through a lot recently.  Take as much time as you need.”  Madilyn patted my shoulder one last time and sat to my right on a blue and white striped couch.  Amy sat next to me on the couch and handed me a glass of water.  I had learned recently not to drink things I hadn’t prepared, but I felt so at ease here I knew not to worry about my safety.  I sipped the water, and as I watched Amy recite an incantation, a small end table slid in front of the couch.  I set the glass down and finished wiping the tears from my face.
    “I’m sure Stefanie has probably already said too much,” Amy began, looking at Stefanie who sat on an overstuffed armchair across the room.  Stefanie busied herself with tracing the pattern of the fabric with her finger.
    “At any rate,” Amy continued, “We don’t have to talk about everything all at once.  Why don’t you take some time to rest, and then we can talk?”
    I didn’t want to rest.  I wanted to get back to my apartment and start planning my next steps.  However, resting after a good cry seemed to be the only thing I had energy for at the moment.  I couldn’t imagine trying to take in whatever Amy and Madilyn wanted to talk to me about with any coherence.  I took another sip of the water.
    “Okay,” I agreed, my eyes already heavy and ready to give in to the mere suggestion of sleep.  Between my argument with Stefanie in the car and my emotional volcano a few minutes ago, I felt drained.  Amy stood and let me lay down on the floral couch.  I was afraid they would want me to move to another room, and I didn’t think I had the strength for that.  As I gave up the fight with my eyelids, I saw Amy’s lips moving in one last incantation and felt the warmth of an afghan materializing around me.  What a way to be tucked in.  I imagined my mother using this spell as I drifted off to sleep.  I was