by Chanda Hahn
Mina studied the people gathered on the streets. She began to run among them, calling his name. A few people stared at her as if she was crazy, but then she probably looked a wreck. Her brown ponytail had slid sideways and was now on the side of her neck. Her face was smeared with soot, and her brown eyes looked crazed with worry. Yeah, she was a definite picture of madness.
But her brother couldn’t have vanished into thin air, could he? A cool wind blew across her skin. Impossible, with all the humidity and the heat from the fire, but blow it did, and with it came an intuitive warning. This wasn’t an accident.
A siren call erupted into the night again, and Mina turned to stare at the fire in disbelief. She had heard that sound before when she was in the apartment, and it wasn’t the police sirens. She closed her eyes and took a calming breath before purposefully moving closer to the fire. She ducked under the police line and made her way to the alley, where there was less foot traffic. One of the windows had been broken out and smoke still poured out of it into the night sky, but she could see inside the first floor, into the Wongs’ restaurant kitchen.
Something was in there. It was large and covered in fire, but it hopped around, floating or flying from place to place. It was hard to distinguish because the color of flame around it was an intense white and gold. She had to continuously blink to even focus on the beast, for now she was certain that it was alive.
Her eyes hurt from staring at the gold flame, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. There! She saw something—the tip of a flaming wing. Or maybe her mind was playing tricks, but she didn’t think so.
A scream ripped through the air, and intense white-gold flames erupted as the roof collapsed into the building. Mina ran away from the building to a safe distance as smoke, dust, and debris rained down from the sky. Something shot out of the building, hidden by the flames, and disappeared into the dark, rolling smoke of the night.
“Did you see that?” Mina shouted, pointing upward, turning to see if anyone else had noticed the apparition. The neighbors and tragedy-gawkers were startled when the roof collapsed, but it seemed as if no one else could see what she saw.
More tears slid silently down her cheek as she watched the fire devour her family’s life. Something plastic crunched under her shoe, and she gently lifted her foot to see a partially melted object. As she scooped it up, her heart cried out in despair when she recognized the red gingerbread man from Charlie’s board game.
It was still warm, scorched, and its base had melted into a small blob. Collapsing to the sidewalk, Mina stared at the plastic piece and felt her heart break in two. The shock had finally worn off, and all she could do was cry.
Chapter 3
The funeral was supposed to be small, consisting of the Wongs, a few of Charlie’s teachers, and his friend from up the street. The service was held at a small Methodist church that her family attended infrequently. But the media had made a tragic event story out of Charlie’s death and the fire. Signs, flowers, candles, and teddy bears were piled up in a memorial to Charlie, and the pews of the church were filled with strangers, brought together only by the tragedy of a small boy’s untimely death.
Mina was numb. Her mind barely functioned, and she had the hardest time completing the simplest tasks, like eating and getting dressed. It was too painful to breathe, and when she did remember to inhale, every breath was complete agony. Sara had always been the strong one—during her husband’s funeral, and even now as she held Mina’s hand during the eulogy. The pastor was saying very nice things about her brother—what kind of boy he was, who he would have been if he’d had a chance to grow up, and how he was now in the arms of the Lord. The pastor’s words brought some comfort, but they did little to erase the guilt that was slowly eating away at Mina. Negligence. That was the word a reporter had used when describing the fire, and how the older sister who was supposed to be babysitting was negligent in her duties.
She stared at the child-size coffin and felt her throat seize up with more guilt and sadness. She had cried all she could and was unable to cry anymore—her tears had dissipated, but the pain hadn’t. Someone, probably a choir member, sang a beautiful song about heaven and angels, and Sara was moved to tears. The pastor ended with a prayer. Finally, it was time. The moment she’d been dreading. The burial. Sara and Mina rode with the Wongs behind the hearse as they headed to Gray’s Lake Cemetery.
It wasn’t a beautiful plot, or a prime spot. It was actually close to the road and near the entrance, but it was all they could afford. Mina thought her brother deserved better, somewhere shaded and maybe with a view, but then again, it wasn’t like Charlie was actually in the coffin. His body was never recovered. The flames had burned so hot and so quickly. The firefighters said there wasn’t anything left to recover other than the sole of one of Charlie’s rain boots, which had been found under the couch. It was then that they had to face the truth—he had died in the fire.
The memories of that night were always close to the surface, like a teakettle about to boil over, ready to send her into a spiral of hurt and pain and loss. They had stayed up all through the night and watched in vain as all the possessions they owned went up in smoke. That same night, the Wongs were taken to the police station, where they filled out paperwork and gave their statements about what had transpired and who could have started the fire. There were some nasty accusations being thrown out about arson to collect insurance on the building, but Mina knew those accusations wouldn’t stick.
But that left Sara and Mina alone. Once the blaze was contained, rescue workers asked if they could notify family to come and get them, but that sent Sara Grime into a frenzy.
“No! There’s no one. We have no family,” Sara answered.
The young man looked saddened. “Well, then, ma’am, let me at least take you to a shelter. They have showers, and you can get a warm meal. I’m sure— ”
The slamming of a car door cut the young man off, and Sara looked up in surprise at the white Lexus. Sara’s boss, Terry, stepped out of the driver’s seat and walked sternly over to Sara.
“Now, Sara, I know that you are going to try and tell me no, but as your boss, I’m telling you that you can’t. You’re coming home with me.”
“Terry, I can’t possibly…you can’t be serious.”
Terry’s heart-shaped face and blue eyes peeked out from behind slim jeweled spectacles. Her grayish-white hair was pulled into a severe bun. She wasn’t wearing the Happy Maid uniform of khaki pants and polo that Sara and the other employees wore. She was in a gray business skirt, white blouse, and jacket. Expensive rings covered each of her short fingers, displaying evident wealth.
She held up her hand, hushing Sara. “No. Think about it, Sara. I’m your only friend beside Mei Wong. You know that it’s either with me or the shelter, and I refuse to let my friend who just lost a family member stay at a place like that.”
Sara’s mouth opened and closed in shock before she finally nodded her head. She turned to Mina and gestured toward the white car. They had nothing to load into the trunk except for a few blankets people had given them, and of course the Grimoire.
Terry Goodmother lived on the top floor of a large, expensive apartment building. Everything in the condo was white: the carpet, furniture, walls, even down to the five poodles, each named after an extravagant gemstone. There was Jade, Turq—short for Turquoise—Diamond, Emerald, Pearl, and Ruby.
Sara slept in Terry’s only guestroom, and Mina took to sleeping on the couch. Each morning she woke with a stiff back because Turq and Ruby took it upon themselves to sleep on top of Mina. But the last few days had dragged by. Terry’s constant chatter did little to pull them out of their shocked state. Complete strangers came by with boxes of clothes and household supplies to give to the Grime family. Terry was great and organized all of the donations in her living room. It was obvious that soon they would have to find a new place to live. They couldn’t continue to survive on the goodness of Sara’s boss. But Terry was phenomena
l at getting the funeral arrangements handled.
Someone touched her elbow, abruptly bringing her back to the present. Mina blinked in surprise and looked up into the striking face of her crush, Brody Carmichael. He was tanner and his blond hair had turned lighter, evidence of his summer traveling the Mediterranean. The wind whipped his hair around his face, but he ignored the torment of Mother Nature as he looked deeply into her eyes, studying her.
Mina’s heart jumped in her chest, and her mind blanked. She hadn’t expected any of her classmates to come to the funeral. Even Nan was still out of state and wouldn’t make it in time. For Brody Carmichael to be the one to show up tore at her heart. She couldn’t believe it—it showed how truly caring and special he was, and now it was making it harder for her to not fall in love with him all over again.
Her eyes began to fill up with tears, and her bottom lip quivered with emotion. She was going to make a fool of herself right in front of him. Brody still hadn’t released his grip on her elbow, and when he saw her tears start to build up, his eyes widened in concern, and he pulled her close to his chest.
She was shocked by the show of concern and melted into his warm embrace, because that’s what it was. His arms gingerly wrapped around her, and his hand gently cupped the back of her head. She refused to move or breathe, and prayed for this moment to last forever as she tried to imprint it into her memories. She was so distracted by his scent, his strong arms holding her, that she didn’t hear him whispering something to her. She tried to lift her head to hear what he was saying, but as soon as she did, he abruptly let go and took a step back.
Disappointed by how quickly he’d released her, she stared at the ground, not ready to look into his gorgeous eyes. She knew what she would see there: pity, not love. Her heart ached for him, and it was probably not reciprocated. By now, if he isn’t already, he should be in love with Nan. I mean, who wouldn’t love her? She’s beautiful, funny, and quirky. Mina hoped that the summer months and the distance between them would make the love she held for him wane, but seeing him once again and having him hold her in his arms made everything rush back like a tidal wave all at once. She still very much cared for Brody Carmichael, and every part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him to never let go of her again. But she didn’t; she stood her ground, cleared her throat, and gathered her courage to make eye contact. What she saw there made her doubt her decision.
He was struggling. She could see his inner turmoil, the battle that was being fought within him. He had tears in his eyes, and he swallowed nervously. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his knuckles were white with tension. He quickly turned his back to her and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Mina was too scared to approach him and waited until he turned around again.
When he finally did, he was apologizing.
“I’m sorry. I was out of line.” He looked in pain. His eyes begged her forgiveness.
Mina was confused, until she remembered he was with Nan. Then it became clear—he was scared what her friend would think. “It’s okay, it was just a hug. I won’t tell Nan.”
Her words seemed to hurt Brody even more, because he closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, I’m not apologizing for holding you. I won’t ever regret that. I’m apologizing for what I said.”
Mina’s eyes widened, and she mentally began to berate herself for spacing out and not listening to what he’d said when he hugged her. What did he whisper to her? What could he have said that would make him so upset? Could she ask him to repeat it, or would that sound dumb? Maybe he was saying he still had feelings for her? Her mind made up a hundred different things he could have confessed to her. The mystery was killing her so much that she wanted to curl up and die.
“Don’t apologize. I feel the same way,” she lied, and instantly regretted her choice of words. He looked confused and stared at her like a stranger. Great! she thought. She did it again. Insert foot in mouth.
Brody had stepped back from Mina and was now looking around the graveyard uncomfortably. He’d probably just realized how inappropriate their conversation was, considering their location, and was looking for a quick escape. Mina felt sorry for him and decided to relieve his distress.
“So I guess I’ll see you at school, then.” Not the most eloquent moment, but it would do.
Brody looked at Mina, and he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “Yeah, see you then.” He turned to leave, but stopped as if he’d forgotten something. He reached into his suit and pulled out a slightly crumpled rose. Heat rose to Mina’s cheeks when she realized she was probably the one who’d crushed it when she buried her face in his chest.
He walked over to Charlie’s casket and held the rose out awkwardly, as if he couldn’t bring himself to release the flower. Instead, he turned to Mina and offered the rose to her. That one action alone created another wave of silent tears. She’d sworn that she couldn’t cry anymore, but Brody was proving to be her undoing. Gently, she reached out and took the pathetically smashed flower, and she laughed softly. Charlie would be laughing hysterically if he were here to see the state of the rose. It was at one time a beautiful specimen of a rose, and unlike the ones others had brought and laid on Charlie’s casket, this one still had its thorns. It must have come from Brody’s own garden. Which made this one even more special.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He nodded to her and walked silently down the hill to his car.
Two men came forward and began to lower the casket into the ground. Brody’s rose was still in her hand, and she had a moment of selfishness where she wanted to keep it forever, because it was a gift from him. At the last minute, Mina rushed forward to drop her rose onto the others as the casket finally lowered to the bottom.
A few people stopped to speak with Sara and pay their respects, but Mina couldn’t help but stare at the rose that she’d tossed on the casket. As much as she’d wanted to keep it, she had to start breaking the ties between them.
But something was wrong. Unlike the other roses, this one wasn’t holding still. It was moving back and forth as if blown by a forceful unseen wind. Incredibly, a gust came by, and the rose shot out of the grave and blew across the grass. Irritated, Mina chased after Brody’s rose, trying to stop and pick it up, but it continued its wild journey until it flew under the branches of a shaded willow tree.
Mina stopped and parted the long weeping willow’s branches, and could see the rose resting against Jared’s black boot. Wait…not Jared—Teague.
Teague reached down to pick up the rose and brought it to his nose to breathe in its scent. His hair was a lighter shade of brown than Jared’s, and his eyes were a deep blue, while Jared’s were a haunting gray. They both had similar angular jaws and drop-dead-gorgeous looks. Teague once again was dressed in black, and Mina had a mind to joke about whether he was going to a funeral, but he was, so the words died on her lips before she even spoke them.
Instead, she glared at him and held out her hand, demanding the rose without saying a word.
Teague’s eyes widened and looked her over, never once dropping his Cheshire Cat smile. “I only came to pay my respects.”
“What respect? You don’t respect me or my family. Otherwise, your kind never would have cursed us.”
“You’re wrong—it’s always wise to respect your enemies.”
“Well, I don’t respect you.”
“You should, Mina. Do you see what happens when you ignore your duty—when you ignore me?” He pointed to Charlie’s grave, and his voice became threatening. “I don’t like to be ignored, and now you have one less distraction in your life, so you can focus more of your time on me.”
Teague’s words confirmed her worst fears. Her actions had led Teague to strike out against her family and kill her brother. Her stomach dropped, bile rose in her throat, and every inch of her was sick with the guilt his words layered on her. It was her fault, and she knew it. But she couldn’t show him how weak she was, and how mu
ch his words had affected her. She had one more person to protect: her mother, and she would not be negligent again.
“You’re not welcome here. So please leave.” Mina snatched the rose out of Teague’s hand and felt a sting in her palm. She winced in pain but refused to acknowledge it.
Teague reached for her hand, and Mina let him open up her palm to inspect her wound from the thorn. She was still reeling, and her whole body shook with anger. Teague leaned forward and blew on the small cut in her palm, and it healed itself. She ripped her hand from his grasp and took two steps away from him, almost falling on the ground. She needed to keep better control of herself. She needed Jared.
“How is my dear brother?” he asked, as if reading her mind.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
His eyes darkened. “We are not exactly on speaking terms.”
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you keep trying to kill me, would it?”
“Now, sweet Mina, our fight goes back long before you were born. But you can’t hold it against me that I’m only doing my job. I’m supposed to throw quests your way, and you are supposed to try to stop me. It’s as simple as that. I can’t help it if we have a casualty or so in the process. That’s what makes the stories so good.” He smirked. “That’s what makes them popular. That’s what makes me powerful.” He was so close to her now that he ran the back of his finger across her cheek, and she flinched and smacked it away.
“I see that you are as disgusting as ever.”
“I see that you’re getting your fight back. You know, Mina, out of all the Grimms over the years who died at the hands of my fables, you are by far my favorite to toy with. I wonder why that is?” he asked, appearing to ponder the question.
“Maybe because you picked the wrong girl to mess with.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve finally found the perfect Grimm. I think you will be the most challenging. Which means your ending, the tale that finishes you off, will make us both famous.”
