Wilde Magic

by K M Charron

  A glow filled Harper’s cheeks. "Really? Thanks, Ains." Her eyes seemed to double in size. "It’s super cool. We were discussing the possibility of wormholes and time travel."

  If only that were real, Ainsley thought, then I could go back and stop dad from going up to the roof. Pushing the thought from her mind, she nodded and sat back on her mattress, her knees to her chest.

  Harper sat on her bed across from Ainsley. "What movie made you so sad?"

  She hadn’t expected to be asked and had nothing ready. "Um." Crap, what was a sad movie? "Um, The Notebook?" She had to get better at lying.

  "Oh, I cry whenever I watch that. Weren’t you devastated when the dog was killed?"

  Ainsley’s foot tapped against the mattress. “Absolutely, I hate when animals die, even if it’s fake."

  Harper narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "That’s what I thought. Now, let’s try this again. Why were you crying?"

  "I already told you—"

  Harper put her hand up to stop her. "No dog dies in The Notebook."

  "You tricked me?" Ainsley crossed her arms across her chest, feeling the imaginary microscope on her.

  "Only after you lied to me first."

  Harper had a point. Ainsley sighed. "Fine, yes, I lied. I was just having a moment."

  "Feeling overwhelmed is totally normal.” Harper sounded like she was about to recite a pamphlet from the counseling office. “A lot has happened in a short time. Sydney can be horrible—"

  Ainsley snapped her head up. "What? You think that wench is why I was crying? I wouldn’t waste my energy on someone so vile."

  Harper’s face changed from empathy to confusion. “Why are you so upset then?"

  "I don’t want to talk about it." She pulled the laptop onto her lap, petting the top of it.

  “Something's upset you. You should talk about it."

  It was clear that Harper was stubborn. "Maybe you should go to law school and forget physics. Or become a cop because you clearly like to interrogate people," Ainsley snapped, feeling instantly regretful.

  Putting her hands up, Harper said, "Sorry for asking. I obviously hit a nerve, but I’m not sorry I care. We don’t know each other well, but you’re one of the few people I’ve met here who seems normal, not to mention you’re cool and brave. I’m here if you decide you want to talk." She kicked off her shoes and lay back on her bed, pretending to look through her phone.

  Ainsley felt doubly shitty. She’d vowed that she wouldn’t be the same irritable and defensive person here that she’d been in Augusta since her dad’s death, and here she was, biting Harper’s head off for caring. I should tell her. Keeping her gaze on the computer, she said, "I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s a touchy subject for me. My dad died about five months ago, but sometimes it still hits me. I was watching home movies." She could feel the wave of grief spilling up inside her again. What was with her? Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them as quick as they came with the sleeve of her hoodie.

  "I’m sorry, Ains. I had no idea." Harper blinked as if clearing her head. "Was he sick?" Her face scrunched up as if the question was possibly too delicate to ask.

  "Sorta. It was sudden. We weren’t at all prepared, and it still stings. This was his, and it’s pretty much all I have left of him." She placed the computer back on her lap.

  Biting her lip, Harper said, "It’s nice that you have videos so you can still see him." She pulled her knees into her chest, wrapping her waif arms around them. Her glasses slid down her nose, but she left them. "And you still have your mom."

  The invisible knife in her heart twisted deeper, yet she managed a nod.

  "Or do you guys not get along? It seemed like you were really close when she was here."

  She prayed Harper would run out of questions. "We do, it’s just… Things have been strained since he died. I don’t want to get into the details, but I think my mom could benefit from some space." Space away from me.

  Ainsley could still see the look of despair, confusion, and blame on her mom’s face that night. She’d questioned Ainsley about why she’d followed him to the roof and not gone for help after she recognized he was acting strange. It was a question she still asked herself. Had she had any inkling that he was suicidal, she would’ve.

  "I’m sure your mom misses having you home."

  "I miss her too, but the distance is best for now. It’s hard for her to be around me. I guess I remind her of my dad." Ainsley swallowed hard, keeping her gaze away from Harper’s face. She didn’t want to see any reaction, she felt lousy enough on her own.

  Harper closed the distance between their beds and put an arm around her. "Shh, it’s going to be all right." She squeezed, and Ainsley hadn’t realized how much she’d needed a friend’s hug. "I know I just met your mom, but I could tell how much she loves you."

  Ainsley gently pulled herself out of Harper’s embrace. "I know she loves me, but that doesn’t mean she can’t also resent me." Wiping her cheeks with her hands, she stood. "Can we talk about something else? Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

  Harper nodded. "Anything."

  "Do you know anyone really good with computers? I mean, hacker good?"

  A wicked grin crept its way onto Harper’s face. "Maybe. It depends on what you need. Are we talking breaking into government files like a super-spy, or just hacking a few Ashcroft records?"

  Ainsley chuckled. "I like where your head’s at, but nothing so nefarious." Picking up her dad’s laptop, she presented it to Harper. "I need to open my dad’s locked files and get into his email." She tilted her head and gave a half-smile. "Know anyone who can do that?" Hope and butterflies collided in her chest.

  Harper took the laptop out of Ainsley’s grasp, sat back on her bed, and opened it up. "As a matter of fact," she began typing away, “I do."

  She felt welcome relief ease into her muscles. "You? How did I get so lucky as to get you as my roommate?" Ainsley plopped down next to her and watched as Harper did her thing. She had no idea what she was witnessing, and she didn’t care that none of it made any sense, she was just grateful. "Have you hacked a lot of stuff before? You seem pretty good."

  Harper smirked. "I used to spend a lot of time online, specifically in various private chat rooms that were quite informative." Her fingers worked away on the keyboard, and Ainsley was amazed at her speed. She never looked away from the screen. If Ainsley tried that, her work would be one giant typo. "There," she said, and Ainsley watched as her dad’s email account opened, the number of unopened emails was in the hundreds. "What’s next?" Harper asked, buzzing. She obviously loved this kind of thing.

  Ainsley’s pulse thrummed in her ears, and her stomach fizzed with nervous excitement. Was this really happening? She’d waited so long and had nearly given up hope. Forcing a steady voice, she said, "There are four locked folders in the documents section that I can’t get into."

  "No problem." Harper clicked on the documents, and the blue folders popped up on the screen. She looked in hidden areas of the computer’s hard drive and typed in commands that looked like nonsense to Ainsley’s untrained eyes. She had to believe she and Harper were roommates for a reason. Perhaps her dad was helping from above, wanting her to continue his investigation.

  "And we’ll reboot your system, then they should all be open. I took the liberty of un-encrypting the files—just in case they were. How much would it suck to get in and still not be able to read them?" Harper sat back, a pleased look on her face. "Here, you do the honors," she said, passing the laptop back.

  Ainsley slid it onto her lap and watched as the screen came back to life. Relief, fear, and pure joy fought for space inside her. Ainsley held her breath, her palms growing moist. Seconds later, the files spread out across the screen. She clicked on the last file, the one labeled A_A_5 since she assumed it was the most recent one he had worked on. It opened, revealing a variety of documents and a video. She moved on to the other folders to see if they’d open too.

 
Her stomach knotted.

  She glanced up at Harper, her throat tight and dry. "The others are still locked."

  Harper spun around. "What? Let me see." She wasted no time yanking the computer away from Ainsley and placing it on her lap. Typing with mad fury, Harper clicked aggressively on the keyboard, her face a barrage of facial expressions akin to curse words.

  "Ugh! Sorry, Ains. The software used on these is serious. He must've used a different program. Let me consult my sources and get back to you." Disappointment and a touch of embarrassment sat in her eyes.

  “Sure. That doesn’t take away how impressive you are, you know. Thank you, and you did get me into one of the folders tonight. I have no doubt you’ll find a way to hack into the rest." She gave her a wink and huge grin before putting her earbuds in, a subtle sign that she was going down the rabbit hole and didn't want to be disturbed. Thank God Harper wasn’t nosy, so she didn’t have to dodge any questions about what was in the files.

  What came up on the screen was a victim profile.

  Name: Daphne Whitmore, age 16

  Last Seen: At her school’s Winter Festival Jan. 12th – She left her friends to go inside to use the bathroom and never came back.

  Family: younger brother, Jonah (14), mother, Gabby (41), father, Wesley (42).

  Daphne attended Beverly Public High School, was popular, involved in many school activities, including being on the soccer and basketball teams, and had a 3.6 GPA.

  Police interviewed everyone close to her, including the boyfriend (dating for six months), Darren Angelo (17) who is a current student at Ashcroft Academy, but have no suspects in custody. Darren’s alibi fell through, but police don’t have anything tying him to the scene. Volatile relationship? Abuse? Victim’s parents claim he’s a nice boy. His friends say the couple got along well.

  No trace of Daphne. Her cell phone was not found. No personal belongings were missing from her room. She most likely didn’t run away, as police first suggested.

  *Beverly is only a ten-minute car ride from Ashcroft. Darren has a car—easy access to her.

  Connected to other cases, all somehow tied to Ashcroft.

  All missing girls either attended Ashcroft or had ties to people who were students or staff. Is the same person responsible for all victims? Are parents covering for their entitled child(ren)?

  Suicide + car accident + drug overdose – connected somehow? Not really accidents but murders?

  His notes ended there, leaving her shaken to the core. He’d been looking into something more extensive than a single missing girl. Her eyes searched back up the screen pausing on the All missing girls line. How many were there? Her dad had been suspicious about whether a suicide, a car accident, and an overdose were actually murders. Did he think they were cover-ups, staged so no one would suspect the girls had been killed?

  Her head swam. He’d written something about entitled kids. Was it possible that Ashcroft students had murdered these girls, and their influential parents cleaned it all up?

  Her eyes scanned the list of documents in the file, and she noticed a video dated a week before his death.

  Her finger hovered reluctantly, although she had no idea what she was waiting for. She pressed the black triangle, biting on her lower lip, and ripping at the cuticle around her thumb.

  It buffered for a second and then her dad appeared on-screen. She sucked in a breath at seeing him again. The image shook as he held the camera in front of him. There was no discernible background to determine where he was. All she could see were a few bare trees and that it had been a sunny day, but she noted the way his breath hung in the air. It was so good to see him again. Part of her had worried she’d forgotten the way he looked—the way his chestnut hair curled over his ears and the light stubble he kept because her mom said she liked it on him.

  Ainsley had to push aside the pang of seeing him again to focus on his words.

  "A sixteen-year-old student named Daphne Whitmore was last seen here in Beverly at her school’s Winter Festival." He moved the camera lens, showing a good-sized high school and a dusting of snow on the trees and ground. The lens pointed back at him, and her heart sank, leaving behind hollowness as she stared at his face.

  "As I was researching the area, I discovered that at least five girls have either gone missing over the past twenty years from the Salem, Danvers, and Beverly, Massachusetts area. All of the girls had one connection in common—Ashcroft Academy. The people of these towns are reluctant to talk." The urgency and paranoia grew as he spoke, his eyes were dark with noticeable circles, and she didn’t remember his skin ever being that pale. "I know there’s a cover-up going on. I need to find out who’s behind it and why." Her dad shifted and lowered the camera, so she got a shot of his feet on the snowy pavement. She heard someone tell him he couldn’t film there because it was private property and he needed to leave.

  The video ended. She shuddered, a cold chill taking hold of her. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. If she hadn’t known how passionate he’d get about his work, pulling all-nighters to research, she might’ve thought he looked mentally unstable.

  But she did know better, and if he had suspicions about these girls and their connection to Ashcroft, then something was going on. It sure wasn’t the work of a lone teenage boy, though. It went far beyond that, and she needed to find out what before another girl disappeared.

  Sydney

  Chapter 16

  Sydney hated crying. Her mother insisted it was a sign of weakness. Still, the tears kept coming. It would only be a matter of time before she’d be confronted by her mother about this latest failure. What was wrong with her? Her chest ached as she pictured her mother’s pursed lips and clenched jaw.

  She slid into her hiding spot behind the main staircase before anyone could spot her falling apart. She refused to give her fellow apprentices the pleasure of thinking they could use it against her. Her mother wasn’t the only one to search out and pounce on perceived deficiencies. Every apprentice wanted to stand out. Be the best. Exploit a fellow witch’s weaknesses if possible.

  She was no different.

  Wiping her tears with her grandmother’s handkerchief made her feel a tad less horrible. When her grandmother had given it to Sydney over a decade ago, she’d enchanted it with a charm so that whenever Syd used it to wipe away tears, Syd would feel her grandmother’s soft embrace. She missed her so much.

  "Here you are. Why’d you sneak off?" Langston crawled into the small hiding nook, nudging her against the cold of the stone wall.

  "Sorry, I just wanted to be alone." She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand and took a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. She was glad for the darkness, knowing that if she looked at him, she’d completely fall apart. Her mother’s threats whispered in her ears as if she were kneeling next to Sydney in the cramped darkness. She couldn’t be sent away, not from Langston and her friends, not from her father. He needed her the most. What if he woke up and she was on the other side of the world? She wouldn’t leave him alone with her mother.

  "Ava’s okay. So is Penelope." Langston put an arm around her and squeezed. "You did well today. Don’t beat yourself up. Besides, if any of the other proficiencies had been allowed to test, Aunt Isme would have still been pissed. No one is ever up to her standards. Trust me, I know firsthand."

  "Yeah well, I can do better, but I choke with the pressure of everyone watching me, and now that I know the Masters have added electric shocks to the mix, I have no idea how I’m going to make it through the next few months." Her throat ached as she swallowed back her tears.

  Sydney could hear the other apprentices jeering and laughing, goofing off when they should be practicing. Had they not just witnessed the same barbaric consequences she had? How could they be carrying on like that? Maybe they were more confident in their magic and didn’t need to be worried about sending convulsions into their friends.

  "With a bit more practice, you’ll get there. I know it. I’v
e seen you in action. You’re amazing, babe.”

  She couldn’t absorb his compliments. He was more than a little biased. “Mother won’t let this go. You know what she’s like. No excuse will be good enough." What she didn’t say was that her mother had already warned Sydney and she was now dangerously close to being shipped off.

  Langston turned her face toward his and kissed her. It was deep yet soft. Comforting as always, but it had never made her stomach flutter or her heart race the way she’d always heard. Maybe it was because they’d known each other for so long.

  She trailed her fingers around the back of his head, ready to lose herself in something other than failure. He groaned softly, and his kiss became more urgent as he drew her closer.

  Langston pulled back to look at her. "I love you, you know?"

  "I know." She allowed herself a small smile. At least she had him. He could drive her crazy, but he was loyal and genuine. "Love you too."

  He tugged her arm gently. "Come on, let’s get out of here."

  Sydney released his hand. "I think I’m going to hang out a few minutes longer. You know I get all red and blotchy when I cry." They both knew she wouldn’t let anyone see her in this state. No weakness.

  She felt another kiss, this time on her forehead.

  "You always look beautiful. Don’t be long. It will be good to get some practice in," he said before sneaking back out.

  She allowed herself five more brooding minutes before she forced herself up. As she made her way out from under the stairs, a shooting pain almost brought her to her knees. Her head throbbed in agony, and she could barely keep from screaming out.

  It was her mother telepathically summoning her. Screeching at her would be more accurate. She knew her mother would be angry about the testing, but this? Her blood turned to ice. Mother was furious. Syd toyed with making a run for it, but it wouldn’t matter. Mother would find her since Sydney’s blocking spells weren’t foolproof, especially against a Master witch of her mother’s caliber.