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rolling of Elvira’s eyes forewarned her of her mother’s disbelief. ‘Really, Grace? Can’t you think up something more original?’
    She disappeared down the hall.
    ‘I’m not making it up.’ Grace stood and yelled after her. ‘I can’t help it if Fel has a limited vocabulary. It’s a cat.’
    Her mother halted and swung around, eyebrow raised.
    ‘What do they like?’ Grace continued. ‘Food, well, she doesn’t eat. She’s dead. Someone to scratch their itchy bits? That’s next on the agenda.’
    Elvira turned on her heel. ‘I’m very busy now, researching this complex spell. There’s no time for frivolity.’
    Grace leaned her shoulder on the wall and gave a soft chuckle. ‘I’m not being frivolous. Far from it. Don’t let me keep you.’
    Her mother stood on the threshold to her room, looking at her sideways. ‘Are you sure, dear?’
    ‘Yes, fine.’ Grace sighed and brushed her fringe out of her face.
    ‘You haven’t been yourself since…’
    Grace chewed her lip then blew out a breath. ‘I’m fine. Forget I said anything. I’m going to find Elena.’
    Grace considered that the cat might’ve spoken to her cousin, and perhaps Elena had forgotten to mention it. She didn’t have to read her mother’s mind to know that Elvira thought she was losing it. She could picture the beginning of her mother’s catalogue of issues now—the stress of seeing Declan Mallory, the reminder of her punishment and continued ostracism. Well, she wasn’t losing it, nor did she want to be an object of pity. So Declan Mallory was back in town. He had the right. It certainly didn’t mean that she was losing her grip on reality. The cat spoke, for goddess’ sake. Why couldn’t her mother accept that?
    Grace found Elena in the garden digging up weeds, the burnished copper of her hair tied up in a loose ponytail. She was wearing green capri pants and a white linen shirt. Elena brushed the dirt off her hands as she listened. ‘No. I don’t think Fel’s spoken to me,’ Elena replied. ‘But then again, I’m not as strong and as talented as you.’
    ‘I don’t think that comes into it. The talent comes from the cat.’ Grace found a patch of grass and plonked herself down. ‘At least you don’t think I’m deranged, like Mother.’
    Elena dug her trowel into the dirt again. ‘It’s an undead cat. Who knows what it’s capable of? It’s not like there’s a model.’
    ‘Yes, you’re right there.’ Grace studied Elena, realising her cousin’s mood was low, and tried to think of the cause. She examined what Elena had said and then hit upon it. ‘Hey, don’t be down on yourself. You have talent, you just have to nurture it.’
    ‘I’m only a half-witch. I’m not going to amount to much.’
    ‘Keep thinking that and you won’t. It’s your duty to be the best you can be and to explore the limits of your talent. That’s the coven rule.’
    ‘Is it?’ Elena chewed her lip. ‘I don’t recall that one.’
    ‘Okay, it’s not the rule, but it should be. Don’t let other people’s attitudes get you down. You have to find yourself and not be bound by other people’s expectations.’
    ‘You don’t, do you?’ Elena sighed and then sat on heels. ‘I wish I had your strength. The things you’ve had to put up with from the rest of the folk all these years.’
    Grace shook her head. ‘What choice did I have? I had to keep positive.’
    ‘Yet it hasn’t held you back or dampened your spirit. It’s like there’s a light inside of you, Gracie, and no one can extinguish it.’
    Love for Elena surged in Grace’s heart. ‘Oh Elena, I’ve had you and Mother to stand beside me, offer comfort. That has helped me through the hard times. But I am what I am and I can’t change for them. I can’t be what the coven wants because that’s not me. I obey the rules because that’s the right thing to do, but I’m not going to pretend that I don’t have talent just so the rest of the coven can feel