Arthur came along at our request so we wouldn’t get lost on unfa-
miliar streets. We heard music playing loudly and wondered if
something was wrong. Charles and Minnie turned around because
he was tired, and the three of us went up the hill to check things
out. When we got to the window we saw her, already hanging.”
Cora looked down at her feet as they slid out from under her
skirt and back again. The burden of this lie hung heavy on
her shoulders already. “We should have stopped her,” she whis-
pered, a tightness in her chest threatening to overwhelm her.
“She would have done it whether or not we were there.”
Thomas sounded angry, and Cora flinched until she realized he
was talking to himself more than anyone else. “It would have hap-
pened no matter what. We couldn’t have stopped it.” He paused,
and looked suddenly so tired she wondered whether the weight on
his shoulders wasn’t more than just tonight. He shrugged as
though trying to wriggle out from beneath something. “We didn’t
do anything wrong.”
“Then why are we lying?” Cora wiped at her face. The world
that she had worked so hard to make ordered and peaceful in the
airless, aching absence of her father had shifted into one of
Minnie’s stories, and she didn’t know how to put everything back
into place. She knew — had always known — that house was
nothing but death.
At least it isn’t Minnie, Cora thought with a ferocity that star-
tled her. The witch can take the burden of death this time.
She raised her fist and knocked on Daniel’s door, the rough
grains providing a stinging reproach against her knuckles. She
waited a few moments and then knocked again.
A thump and a muffled curse came from inside, followed by a
gravelly caution to wait. The seams of the door came to life with