Page 13 of Postpartum Spells & Infant Hells

Aidon quirked an eyebrow but sat next to me. “The lamp will survive.” The shadows under his skin shifted as though they disliked taking orders from anyone who still had a pulse.

“Most things do until they don’t,” Dr. Caolinn returned, then tapped the open journal with one long finger. “Tell me what happened when you cut the mark from the crib.”

I folded my hands in my lap, and we went through what happened. Dr. Caolinn’s irritation sharpened into focus. “You’re sure about the yellow?”

“I'm positive,” I told him. "It was unmistakable.”

Dr. Caolinn lowered himself into his chair. “Then we’re not wasting each other’s time.”

“Were we in danger of that?” Stella asked while leaning forward.

“With most people, yes,” Dr. Caolinn replied as he turned the journal toward me. “Read the marked paragraph aloud, Mrs. Duedonne.”

My pulse skipped a beat as I looked at the page. The handwriting slanted hard to the right and was cramped and urgent. It was as if the person who wrote it had been afraid someone would open the door before they finished.

“The echo children come when the veil grows thin. They seek anchor points in our world,” I read aloud, feeling the words sink claws into the room. “They mean no harm but carry great need. To help them is to see them forever.”

The rest of the page was gone. Someone had held flame to the paper with patience and purpose, taking the next lines and leaving a blackened curve where answers should have been.

Aidon leaned closer and furrowed his brow. “Who took the rest?”

Dr. Caolinn looked pleased by the question and displeased by Aidon at the same time. “People who’ve been burning pages like it for more than a century.”

Stella’s fingers drummed once on the table. “That’s not an answer.”

“It wasn't meant to be one,” Dr. Caolinn rebuked.

I sighed and fought a growl. “I need to know why someone marked my children’s cribs and texted me a warning that matched my dream.”

Dr. Caolinn’s eyes came back to mine. “Because Ava Beauchêne wanted your attention. Yes, I believe she is the one sending you these messages. It’s something she would do. Though I cannot figure out why at this moment.”

“Ava is the dead woman?” Lilith clarified while my mind was scrambling to make sense of everything. We weren’t getting the whole picture, and what we were given was confusing.

“She faked her death nine days ago,” Dr. Caolinn confirmed while sliding a folded card across the table. “She’s alive in the limited, inconvenient sense that she’s still breathing, still paranoid, and still sending messages.” I took the card but didn’t open it.

“He tracked her between three and six this morning,” Lilith added. “She was active during that time.”

Aidon’s voice stayed calm, but the air around him didn’t. “Why does Ava matter to my children?”

Dr. Caolinn picked up a brass key from beside the journal and set it on the table. “Because she’s been waiting for a mother who could hear the warning and survive long enough to act on it. She didn’t choose Phoebe because she’s special in a sentimental sense. She chose her because your household is inconvenient for the people who’ve been winning.”

“That makes no sense to me,” I muttered.

“It wasn’t meant to. I don’t have all of the answers about the war Ava has been fighting for decades.” Dr. Caolinn replied. “You’re not the first or only mother they’ve come for. You’re the first one with a familiar, a god for a mate, and a house full of people too stubborn to let fear make them back down.”

The room pressed in around me. Echo children. Anchor points. A woman faking death to keep a warning alive. My babies are sleeping at home under more protection than most royal vaults. I was more confused now than before we had walked inside.

I unfolded the card and found a phone number. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Call Ava tomorrow morning at nine. She will have more answers for you,” Dr. Caolinn instructed as he pushed the brass key closer to me.

Aidon’s hand tightened on my knee. “Why only at nine am?”

“Because Ava only answers at nine,” Dr. Caolinn explained. “Trying outside that window will convince her you’re one of the people she faked her death to avoid. Her paranoia is not an inconvenience to work around. It’s one of the reasons she’s alive.”

I picked up the key. It was warmer than it had any right to be. The heat crawled into my palm like a secret. “What does the key open?”

“The warded room you’ll use to call her,” Dr. Caolinn clarified. “It doesn’t open Lilith’s liquor cabinet, my archives, or the moral failings of your enemies. Though I can see how all three might appeal today.”