Rocked as she was by these revelations, Sylvie burned with curiosity. “Mom,” she said, “I do want to hear more about all that, and it’s interesting and all, but I’m dying to know, how did you find me here? What’s going on?”

Her mother assumed an expression of put-upon patience. “Yes, Sylvie, I know. Please bear with me. I’m getting to it.” She sucked in a deep breath, her chest expanding to its fullest, then released it in a long, slow sigh. “All right. Here’s the short version. Sylvie, it was me who taught Carl magic. I did it when he was very young, but it seems he never forgot. And, to answer your question, I used magic to find you here.”

Sylvie couldn’t believe her ears. She sat up straight on the bed, electrified with shock and horror. “What are you saying, Mom? Are you telling me you’re some sort of witch?”

Her mother’s face flushed and she waved her hand as if to bat the word away. “Oh, Sylvie, please don’t call me that. I honestly don’t know what I am. But if your father ever found out what I’ve done, he would hate me. He would leave. I couldn’t bear that! He must never know.” Her eyes held Sylvie’s. “He must never know,” she repeated deliberately.

“Well, I’m not going to tell, if you’re worried about that,” Sylvie said, offended. “I know how to keep a secret. But…” she stopped for a long moment, then burst out with what was bothering her. “Mom, why didn’t you ever teach me about magic ?I mean, I needed to know about that stuff!” Her heart was full of things she didn’t know how to express. She was sure that if she had known such a thing as magic existed in the world, she  she would have been far better equipped to handle the strange events of the past few days. She felt betrayed to her depths by what her mother had hidden from her. And to find out that her beloved Carl had also conspired to hide such an important secret from her burned like napalm in her soul.

A terrible ache grew in her chest. “Mom?” she whispered. Adele’s face was turned away. Her shoulders shook again.

“I’m sorry, Sylvie,” she cried. “I couldn’t. I should never even have taught Carl what I did. When I learned how strongly your father felt, how violently he hated anything that even pretended to be magical, I stopped showing Carl the things I could do and I told him we couldn’t play that game any more. I was just showing off, anyway. It was so wrong of me, I was so selfish, I shouldn’t have!” She sobbed woefully into the now-mostly-shredded wad of tissue.

Sylvie discovered a folded white handkerchief on her bedside table and handed it to her mother. “Here, Mom, use this,” she said softly. Adele accepted it without comment and blew her nose. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she hiccupped. She was distraught, hands shaking, lips trembling. “If I could turn time back,” she sobbed, “I would undo it all. But that’s a magic I could never master. I’m not really very good at it, you know. I just knew a few tricks.

“But Carl was gifted, and once he had the idea he continued to practice in secret, even after I forbade him.”

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