The Witch House of Persimmon Point by Suzanne Palmieri

brother say he’d come today? The sooner you see him, the sooner we can leave this hovel,” huffed Gwyneth. Reggie’d been right, she hadn’t objected to the trip, until they arrived. But she’d been moody from the moment she’d seen his younger, beautiful cousin Margaret.
    And then, as if Gwen had conjured him out of sea foam, Vincent, all grown-up, emerged from the blinding sunlight.
    â€œNan, what’s happened to you?” he asked, frowning. “You look like a harlot. Do all women wear their hair down and paint their faces in Virginia Society?”
    â€œIt’s nice to see you, too, Vincent. Look there to the waves, do you see Ava? She’s getting bigger day by day. Come, take my hand, let’s go to her.”
    Vincent’s face softened. He took her hand.
    Nan and Vincent talked for hours. They argued about loyalty and trust and family ties. They laughed over old memories and cried about the loss of their mother. And in the end, they quietly agreed that their lives were very different from one another.
    Nan would never give up hope that she could right the wrongs she’d committed against him.
    Vincent would later marry Reginald’s cousin Margaret and live out his own somewhat tragic life. He would visit Nan once or twice after the destruction of her own world, but, much to Nan’s dismay, they would never be close. To Nan, Vincent would always be the little boy who saved her on the steps at Ellis Island. And to Vincent, Nan would always be the one who let her body ruin his happy life in Italy. There was no in between.
    1908
    The party that was planned for their homecoming from Far Rockaway would prove to be Nan’s last. That night, Gwyneth and Reginald introduced Nan to the famous fortune-teller Evelyn Pratt, whom Reginald had known growing up.
    â€œIt’s impossible to book her for events, but Reggie pleaded with his Aunt Faith at Far Rockaway. Now she’s here, so that barbaric trip was not a waste of two perfectly good days after all.” Gwyneth said. (She’d been rendered to frequent, insecure bouts of anger since seeing Reggie with the clan of strange Greens).
    As if on cue, a stunning woman wearing a deep-sapphire satin gown glided into the parlor on Reggie’s arm.
    â€œCome, Nan. Meet Evelyn.”
    â€œMy dear Nan. It is delightful to meet you. I’ve felt you in this house from the moment I arrived. You are like a beacon here, staving off the more destructive forces. Is your child asleep?”
    Nan looked toward Reginald and Gwyneth, but they were gone again, swept up in the dancing dancing dancing.
    *   *   *
    Evelyn Pratt took Nan roughly by the arm and pulled her into the library. She closed the doors.
    â€œI don’t know why I’m doing this. It usually does no good once I’ve cast the bones. But you are different, Nan. You have real talents. Reggie was right. Magic flows through you, does it not?”
    Nan shrugged. “So my mother said, but I have seen no instances of it.”
    â€œIt is a muscle, like everything else. You should practice and see what you can do. Did you learn English quickly? Do you feel yourself drawn to immoral behavior, guided more by your own set of values rather than those of the society? Of course. Those are two very important telltale signs of one who has great magical potential. Now, more important, you must leave this house, Nan. As soon as possible.”
    Nan walked to a small bar and poured herself a drink.
    â€œThink of it. When was the last time you thought of anything beyond this property? Your brother, growing up alone in New York City. Your mother, in the ground in Italy. Your sister, what has become of her? And Ava … is this the mother you wanted to be?” She knocked the glass out of Nan’s hand. “You must not drink any more of this. These people, this place is soiled. They are using you, Nan. Nothing good can come of this.