“It was aunt Teresa's. It's only right that you should have it now.” Kennedy rolled her eyes.
“What do I need it for? I have no powers of my own.” In fact, she had yet to accept that her mother had been a witch and that in turn, she could be one too. “I'm a dud.”
She hadn't even known about her mother being a witch until her cousin had told her and she'd never done anything remotely witchy until just a few nights ago.
“That's probably 'cause your mum bound your powers.”
“And now she's gone so I won't be needing this.” Kennedy waved the grimoire in her face and Marina's eyes widened in surprise at her declaration. Of course she wanted her mother's diary, she was just mad that someone else had been privy to it's contents.
“I'm sorry.”
“It's okay, you didn't know.”
“Still... But, if she's gone that means that your powers will be coming back any day now.”
“Great.” That explained why they had only appeared after Teresa's death. They reached their destination just two doors down from Marina's room. Her cousin excused herself at the door.
“This is it. I've gotta go, I'm late for my self-defense lesson.” She looked at Kennedy with pity in her eyes. It made her furious. She didn't want anyone's pity.
“Will you be okay?” Kennedy nodded and turned to go inside. Her cousin left without another word.
She was hit by a bittersweet wave of nostalgia as soon as she stepped through the door. The room looked so much like her parent's bedroom back at their home in Villa Chica. Every item visible around the room screamed, Teresa!
The main piece of furniture was, of course, the enormous king-sized bed that occupied the center of the room. It was covered in embroidered floral bedspread and had carved pillars that held up a cream colored canopy.
Three scented candles in descending sizes had been placed next to a photograph of a younger version of her parents on the bedside table.
She looked around the room and found that there were pictures of her parents and her as an infant hanging from the walls all around. There were pictures of her leading up until she had been about three years old.
There was one in particular that she fell in love with. It was one where Teresa lay sideways on a blanket set on the grass under a tree outside. She was reading and Steven sat besides her, feeding a baby Kennedy. They looked so happy. She was suddenly mad that she couldn't remember anything from the time they had lived there.
She recognized Steven's brown leather jacket. It hung from the settee at the foot of the bed. He rarely ever went anywhere without it. She picked it up and walked to the closet to hang it up. Kennedy didn't even know why she had been surprised to find some of her mother's old clothes hanging in the closet.
One of the items in there really caught her attention, a green trunk with silver details rested on the floor underneath the hanging clothes. Like with the grimoire, her mother's initial adorned it's lower right corner. It had a weird padlock, with some kind of loopy symbols similar to Chinese characters engraved on it. She pulled at it twice. It wouldn't open easily.
She tried to move the chest out of its confinement to get a better look at the inscriptions. The thing was as heavy as a bunch of cement blocks. She looked around for the key to open it and found nothing that barely resembled one.
She looked longinly at the chest. It beckoned her. She needed to see what secrets it held inside.
The golden gleam of a candlestick gave her an idea.
“It's always better to say, I'm sorry.” Kennedy said to the empty room. She took the heavy candlestick from the dresser and attacked the lock.
Her hand reeled back as soon as the hit connected. The loud ringing noise that the objects made vibrated painfully through her entire arm. Okay, she wouldn't be trying that again any time soon.
As fragile as it appeared, the silver lock wouldn't budge. She knelt down in front of the trunk and traced the keyhole. It held a familiar shape. The memory of hanging an old key on a long silver chain around Damien's neck came back to her.
“Well, that thing is staying locked for good.” Kennedy kicked the chest in anger for good measure. The sudden blow made it slide back and hit the back of the closet.
“Oh, now it moves!” Something hit her over the head. Whatever it was bounced on her shoulder and fell to the floor. She looked down to see a small pink book by her feet. It must have been on the top shelf.
Curious, Kennedy picked it up and realized what it was.
A baby book. There was an oval shaped opening in the middle of the cover. It let a picture of a very pregnant Teresa be seen through a yellowing plastic sheet.
Kennedy stared. The image of her mother got even more blurry the longer she looked at it. She wiped it with her thumb and it came out wet, only to become blurry again.
Where was that damned water coming from?
She looked up to see if maybe there was a leak on the ceiling and felt the hot liquid slide down her cheeks and onto her neck. It was her. She was the one that was leaking, crying.
She was finally breaking down.
She hugged the little pink book to her chest as the pain that she had been denying to accept poured out of her. It streamed down her face to land on her hands as her grief spilled to the floor in the crystal form of her tears.
Her legs gave out under the enormous weight of her suffering. She cried and sobbed like a toddler left in preschool missing her mother.
“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Mama!” Her choked cries came out in hitched sobs. Kennedy reclined her head on the locked trunk and let everything out until it felt like there were no more tears to spare.
A puffy eyed Kennedy made her way back to the mess hall to eat dinner. Clad in a navy blue woolen dress that had once belonged to her mother, she felt years away from the awkward girl that she had been just a couple of weeks ago.
She had let her hair down. It bounced against her shoulders as she walked. Usually, it just fell flat against her neck. The humid atmosphere of the mountains was doing wonders for it.
When she got to the mess hall, she was surprised to find it practically empty. She spotted Marina wiping one of the rectangular tables clean and made her way towards the girl.
Her cousin smiled brightly when she saw her coming. Kennedy arched her eyebrows and extended her arms to signal at the empty room in question.
“Dinner's at six, you've missed it. But, you've really done it. Uncle Jim never comes down to eat with the rest of us lowly peasants.” Her cousin gossiped with mirthful eyes.
“What are you talking about?” Kennedy didn't see what that had to do with her.
“He joined us for dinner tonight. The poor guy kept looking at the entrance every time that someone came in. My guess is that he was waiting for you.”
“I truly don't know why. I haven't done anything. Besides, you guys are Archer's and I'm not.” Thank God, she thought while remembering Brittany. Only to also remember that the colorful girl was in fact related to her as well. She held back a groan.
“Yes, but he sees us every day. You're the cool new girl now.”
“I am everything but cool. Now, shut up and get me dinner.”
“Where are your manners, girl?”
“I left them at home, along with my dignity and my mother's disappearing corpse.”
“Alright. Jeez, talk about harsh.” Marina held up both hands defensively. It made Kennedy feel bad about her behavior.
She was turning into a grade A bitch. It wasn't her cousin's fault that she was hurting. The girl's gaze softened as she noticed the regret in her eyes.
“It'll get better.” She added in a softer tone.
“How can it?” Kennedy asked, no longer caring if she saw how truly broken she was inside.
“I dunno, but you know that old saying that goes, this too shall pass? Well I have it on good authority that it's actually very true.”
“I guess we'll see, won
't we?”
“Right, you should know that before all of your snippy attitude, I had saved you some dinner since I figured that you would be getting hungry at some point. Now, I'm not entirely sure that you deserve it.”
“Oh, thank God! I thought I would end up having to eat grass to survive.”
“The thought is appealing.” Marina joked and Kennedy resisted the urge to smack her in the arm as she would’ve done with Lauren. They didn't know each other that well yet.
“Sit down, in one of the tables that I haven't cleaned, please. I'm gonna get your food and maybe spit on it first.”
“Gross!” Kennedy yelled after her.
“You do not wanna get on my bad side, ask Brittany.” She mocked a cackle and ended up snickering as she went. No doubt remembering some tasteless prank she'd pulled on her sister.
Those two were the epitome of sisterly love. Although, she wouldn't know, she didn't have any sisters of her own.
Marina took her sweet time getting back and Kennedy made a show of thoroughly inspecting the plate of mashed potatoes and fried steak that she had given her.
“Oh, come on, just eat it! The heat kills off any remaining bacteria anyway.” Her cousin joked with that kind of dark humor that they both shared. However, a very hungry Kennedy failed to appreciate it's funny side.
She ate her meal as Marina cleaned the rest of the room, making light conversation here and there. Then was showed into the stainless steel kitchen – it looked liked it belonged more to a hip restaurant than to that old mansion – to wash her own tray.