by Cecilia Lyra
I stop when I see my name.
Today 8:15 A.M.
Please stop talking to Patrick about me. You’re only making him angrier.
Today 8:55 A.M.
Did you get the information on Cassie?
Today 8:59 A.M.
Are you blackmailing me??????
Today 9:09 A.M.
Don’t be dramatic. I asked you a simple question. How is that blackmail?
Today 9:12 A.M.
Because I asked you a question and you brought up the Cassie thing
Today 9:20 A.M.
I brought it up because people here are getting impatient. Tell Patrick why you really went there and he will understand and forgive you. He may even visit you.
Today 9:22 A.M.
I am not here to spy on Cassie!!! LET IT GO
Today 9:24 A.M.
Are you really going to choose her over your own mother? Do you want me to lose my job?
Today 9:25 A.M.
Just tell me if it’s true or not. Does she have a boyfriend? Is he married? If you get me his name, I’ll find out the rest.
Today 9:30 A.M.
No boyfriend. Not even dating anyone.
Today 9:31 A.M.
Are you sure?
Today 9:41 A.M.
100%. I know what someone who’s having an affair looks like, remember?
Today 9:42 A.M.
Maybe she’s good at hiding.
Today 9:43 A.M.
I live with her. Her girlfriends came to town and talked about girls’ night out, being single, etc. She’s also never on her phone.
Today 11:12 A.M.
If you’re lying to me, I’ll find out. It may take a while but I will. If there’s a story, someone is going to come out with it and then I’ll be out of a job and what good will that do? You should think about your actions, think about your priorities. You’re burning bridges, Julie. Burning them with your husband and with your own mother. Is that really the kind of person you want to be? Who will you have left if you don’t have Patrick or me? What will you do without your husband? Women like you can’t be on your own. Trust me, I know.
So it was Sophie.
Thirty-Eight
Julie
Wednesday, July 18th
It’s like being inside one of my fairy tales.
An evil spell has been broken. Well, maybe not broken. But her heart has definitely started to melt. She asked if we could start over. Then she asked for help. I know how hard that is for her. It’s what she struggles with: showing vulnerability. It feels incredible, miraculous.
It feels like magic.
The Ice Princess has planted a seed of hope in the Sky Princess’s heart.
Should she go back to being the Fire Princess?
I’m scanning the shelves for Double Stuf Oreos—I resent the deliberate misspelling, but Cassie has been very specific in her requests—when I hear familiar voices chatting animatedly down the aisle.
I turn around and I see them. Kiki and Ben.
“Julie!” They run towards me. A cuddly bear hug comes next.
“This is the best surprise,” I say.
“Hey, stranger,” Craig says, a warm smile on his face. “Are you following us?”
“Hey,” I say. I don’t know how to greet him. A handshake seems too formal, a hug too affectionate.
“We went to Ditch Plains. I’m learning how to surf,” Ben says. He looks adorable in a pair of yellow shorts and a blue T-shirt that says: IF HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF, I’M GETTING A DINOSAUR.
“That’s amazing, Ben!”
“Julie, will you come home with us?” Kiki asks. “We need to finish the you-know-what.” She gives me a conspicuous wink.
“Kiki!” Ben exclaims, shushing her.
“What are you three hiding?” Craig asks.
“It’s a birthday surprise for you, Daddy!” Kiki says.
“All right, we’ve already said too much,” I say. Poor Ben is looking like he might have a seizure—he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise.
“You came all the way here for groceries?” Craig asks me.
I tell him about Cassie’s sprained ankle. And about my driving debacle.
“That’s too bad,” he says. “An injury in the middle of summer.”
“Does that mean you can’t come back with us?” Ben looks at me with his big eyes.
“Of course I can,” I tell him. “I just need to get Cassie home first. Make sure she has everything she needs.”
Craig lifts his eyebrows in surprise.
“We’re starting over,” I say. “Clearing the air between us.” I borrow Cassie’s words.
“Was this because of Mandy’s reading?”
“You did know she was coming,” I say, grinning.
“I was sworn to secrecy,” he says. And then: “I’m happy you two are working it out.” His tone is warm, sincere. I can tell he’s genuinely happy for me. Probably happy for Nana, too. This is what she wanted.
“I’ll fill you in later.”
“Dad says we can watch a movie,” Ben announces.
“Frozen 2!” Kiki exclaims.
“No!” Ben puts his hands on his waist. “We said Sonic.”
“Julie likes Frozen,” Kiki says.
“She prefers Sonic,” Ben counters.
“No fighting. Or Julie won’t want to hang out with us,” Craig says.
Kiki, ever the diplomat, changes the subject. “Julie, how come there aren’t any movies about your stories?”
“I don’t know, honey. I’ll call Hollywood and find out.”
“Will you tell us another one tonight?” Ben asks.
“Of course,” I say.
“I should record your stories, so I don’t have to do movie-night mediation,” Craig says. “We should go. You’ll stop by after you go home?”
“Deal.” I smile when I hear him refer to Nana’s house as home.
Ben and Kiki lean in to give me kisses. They’re so loving, so affectionate.
As I wave goodbye, I have to bite the inside of my cheek.
Otherwise my smile might break my jaw.
Thirty-Nine
Cassie
Wednesday, July 18th
I go through it all. Emails, pictures, messages.
I no longer have a credible reason to be snooping. I already know it was Sophie. I should’ve known: Sophie is a shameless gossip with a faulty moral compass. At least Julie has lied to cover for me. This realization comes as a relief, but not as a surprise. Julie is gullible and careless, but she isn’t cruel. And I’ve found no evidence that Julie has seen our father on the island.
Still, I read it all. I’m like a hungry Pac-Man devouring pellets of information on her phone. My curiosity is not a want—it’s a need. I need to know more. I force my brain to shut down, to process the phone’s contents later. Right now, my mission is to gather data. I know I’m crossing a line. A significant one. This is a major invasion of her privacy. But it’s also a window into Julie’s world. I can’t not look. I don’t think I realized how curious I was about her life until now.
It’s astounding how much of our lives are on our phones.
Most of it has nothing to do with Daniel and me. Dozens of pictures of two kids, probably Craig’s, grinning for the camera. A list of random names separated into two columns: boy and girl. I check her social media: Facebook, Instagram. I find nothing but articles she shared and scenic pictures of Boston. Emails: from designer brands (promotions), from Tricia the B (discussing a fundraiser), from Norman-the-lawyer (checking in on us—I got them, too).
But some of it does: a lengthy text exchange with Janette, listing reasons why Julie should investigate Sophie’s claim and then write a story exposing me as a marriage counselor who is dating a married man. Julie keeps telling her no. I read it all, hungrily, quickly.
And then I see it. The stories.
It would be impossible to read all of them. But I know what they are, I remember how she began making
them up when we were just kids. In grad school, I learned that this tendency had a name—absorption, a trait that’s highly correlated to fantasy-prone personality—and that it isn’t altogether uncommon. Has she been weaving stories since then? I want to know what they’re about. I find myself trying to grasp the basic plot of the most recent one.
It’s about two sisters who’ve lost each other—and their powers—because of an evil curse. All they have from their former magical life is a sun stone that was broken in two: each sister wears her half around her neck. The curse is broken when they meet on Fort Pond Bay at sunset, notice their matching medallions, and bring the two pieces together.
I gasp when I read the last paragraph.
Of course, it was never about the sun stone. The two sisters’ strength—their powers—lay in their unity. Together, they became whole. They became magic.
It’s a more poetic version of what Nana used to say. I first heard it during the summer I met Julie, back when I still referred to her as my half-sister. Nana would correct me every time. There are no halves in families, she’d say. Only wholes that, when brought together, make magic. You two are stronger together.
Nana was a very special woman. Sensitive but strong. Intuitive but rational. Maybe she really was the best of Julie and me in one person.
I scan some of the shorter stories. They’re fantasies, of course. But the story about the sun stone was obviously about Nana—and me. By that logic, these other tales—about a king who controls his queen like a doll, about a fairy who longs for a baby but has been cursed—hold a grain of truth, as well.
My chest is aching—guilt, no doubt. I’m spying on a woman who has shown me nothing but kindness. But there’s something else stirring inside me. A deep sadness. Julie’s life seems so lonely, so utterly hopeless.
I look up from the phone. And then my heart stops.
Julie is standing outside the car, staring at me, mouth agape.
Forty
Wednesday, July 18th
“Are you kidding me?” I say. “You were going through my phone?”
Cassie rolls the window down. “Let me explain.”
“Explain?” I drop my shopping bags. A box of cookies falls on the asphalt. I don’t care. I open my palm. “Give it back.”
She complies.
That’s when I realize what she’d been doing before.
“That’s why you asked me to stop here,” I say. “So you could snoop. You planned this.” The nonsensical questions, the strange way she was acting, pretending to have seen Dad. The peace offering, the fresh start. All lies.
The Ice Princess takes off her mask. Underneath her creamy, freckled skin is an evil witch: moss green, covered in blisters and scabs. She isn’t a princess at all. The spell can’t be broken. She is forever changed, forever cursed.
I’ve been such a fool. Why did I think we could go back to the way we used to be?
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“Why?” I ask. “Why do this?”
She exhales deeply. “Because of what you said about…my relationship. With Daniel. About him being married. I needed to know how you knew.” To her credit, she looks ashamed. But I know better than to believe her. It’s all an act. Again.
So that’s what this is about. She’s afraid for her own reputation. She thinks I’ll sell her story to the tabloids. Call her on national television and out her. Expose her on social media. That’s the kind of person she thinks I am: dirty, deceiving. A traitor.
And she doesn’t even know. She doesn’t even know my secret.
“You’re a psycho,” I say, through gritted teeth. I think of the contents of my phone. The personal, sensitive information in there. I feel vulnerable, exposed. “You had no right.”
“I deserve that.” She looks wounded. And then: “I read your messages to your mom. Thank you. For keeping my secret.”
I feel my face burn. How much has she read? Those were private exchanges.
And I wonder if she realizes she’s just revealed that Daniel really is married.
“You could have just asked me.”
“I didn’t think I could trust you.” A pause. “I was wrong. I’m really sorry, Jul.”
I feel a pull inside my chest. Jul. She’s the only one who’s ever called me that.
“How could you, Cassie?” I say, under my breath. I throw her car keys inside the car. They land on the floor, where I know she’ll have a hard time reaching, but I don’t care. She begins to say something, but I hold up my palm like a stop sign. “Figure out a way to drive yourself home,” I say. “I’m done with you.”
And I walk away.
Forty-One
Cassie
Wednesday, July 18th
I could have lied. I realize that now.
I could’ve said that her phone rang, and I picked it up.
No, that wouldn’t work—I wasn’t holding it against my ear.
Maybe I could’ve said that Norman-the-lawyer’s app started beeping. That I unlocked her phone to check that everything was OK, to protect our inheritance. Or that I was admiring her screensaver. Anything would’ve been better than the truth, than admitting to such a massive invasion of her privacy.
Still, a part of me is relieved. Maybe I didn’t lie because I can’t. Not anymore.
My phone buzzes. I look down, hoping it’s either Daniel (I’ve texted him, but he’s in a meeting) or Triple A (I’ve called them and was informed I’d have to wait an hour for a tow truck). But no, it’s just another email from Claudia. The subject reads Good Morning America. I can’t think about work, not now. I wish I were back at Nana’s.
I didn’t expect Julie to leave me here. Not that I don’t deserve it.
I know I’ve been distant towards her since we got here. Unkind, even. But what was I supposed to do—act like we haven’t been estranged for the past fourteen years? That wouldn’t have made any sense. It’s been too long. People move on. People change.
Except Julie hasn’t changed. She’s still loyal. Still kind.
Even though I’ve done nothing to deserve it.
Even though all those years ago I chose to sever contact with both my father and Julie.
When it comes to my father, I have zero regrets. He’s an abusive, narcissistic man who tormented my mother and, by extension, me. But with Julie it was different. For the longest time, I missed her. Learning to live without her was almost like learning to live without a limb. Sometimes, in the beginning, I’d pick up the phone to call her. I once dialed her number. But I never actually made the call. And not only because I felt guilty or because I wanted to punish myself.
I never reached out because a part of me thought she was better off.
Seeing her here confirmed my theory. From the outside, she looked like she had achieved everything she had ever wanted: a stable marriage, financial freedom. A charmed life. A happy life.
But now I think of those stories, the ones on her phone. Every single one of them had a heartbroken, disillusioned heroine. Could she really be that lonely?
Could she really miss me?
Forty-Two
Julie
Wednesday, July 18th
Craig holds out his hand when I walk in, a sheepish smile on his face. He’s looking into my eyes with an expression of delight. The hand is obviously meant for me, though I don’t know why. He’s never done this before. Maybe I’m dreaming.
I take his hand. It’s electric, it’s familiar. For a moment, I forget that Cassie has hurt me. I forget about everything except for his touch, his warmth. If this is what it feels like to hold his hand, it’s possible I’ll go up in flames when we share our first kiss.
When?
He leads me into the family room. We sit on the couch. The door is open. Kiki and Ben are in the living room, playing with Legos. This shouldn’t feel romantic, but it does.
“I have something for you. But you have to promise you won’t be mad at me.” He’s smiling bashfully, but there’s a hin
t of worry in his eyes, too.
“I could never,” I say. This is true.
He reaches behind the blue cushion. I watch him take out an envelope.
“This is from your grandmother.”
I can feel my face falling, my eyebrows furrowing. I see him register my confusion.
He continues, “She asked me to give this to you and Cassie once you started getting along. I didn’t think it would take this long, to be honest.”
I hesitate for a moment. It isn’t true that Cassie and I are getting along. I still haven’t told Craig about her tricking me. Feeling curious, I take the turquoise-blue envelope. It’s good quality stock; thick, buttery.
“All this time you’ve…kept this from me?”
“Bertie made me promise. I keep my promises. This was months ago, when she changed her will. Neither of us expected her to pass away so soon after that. But you know how she was. She liked being prepared.”
Like Cassie, I think. She and Nana were both planners: organized, efficient.
“It broke her heart, knowing that you two were estranged.”
“I know.” My finger grazes the sealed flap as I take in the full weight of his statement. Craig doesn’t know this yet, but Nana’s heart is still broken.
“She wanted you and Cassie to open it together.”
It occurs to me that this might not be possible now. I haven’t told him about Cassie’s stunt with my phone, about the fact that I left her stranded in the middle of a parking lot. If I do, will he try to take the letter back?