Viviana and Leo carry darkness in their eyes. I watch them during the drive to Greenwich. They’re nice, but there’s heaviness in every move they make, every word they say. A guarded ferocity that shields them like invisible fortresses. I’m not sure what’s up with them wearing all black, but it adds to their overall intensity. Black, the absence of color. The absence of life. The family curse hasn’t claimed their lives, but it’s affected them on every level.

Had I grown up knowing about it, I’d probably be the same. Sure, my life was lonely sometimes, but I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder. There was lots of sunshine, fresh air, and happy, carefree days.

Along the way, Viviana fills me in on her aunt and uncle. My aunt and uncle. Our aunt and uncle. Jeez, this is going to take some getting used to.

Casper sits in the back next to me without saying a word. He just stares out the window. Even without speaking, I can feel the shift in him. He tries not to look at me, but when he does, he quickly lowers his eyes. He’s colder than usual, as if he’s already distancing himself.

“We should explain a few things,” Viviana says over her shoulder. “Uncle Hugo and Aunt Carousel aren’t on speaking terms right now. It’s weird. Awkward. Annoying. Mostly because they speak through us rather than to each other. You don’t know how many times a day I hear, ‘Viv, please tell your uncle to pick up his laundry,’ especially when he’s standing right there, and she can bloody well tell him herself—”

“They don’t speak to each other. She gets it, Viv,” Leo interrupts. “Cut to the chase.”

I hide my smile. Even as Madelyn, she talked people’s ears off.

Viviana shoots him a cursory glare before continuing. “The two of them are getting married this coming weekend in France—oh, and now you’ll get to come. That’s perfect. We can go shopping for dresses together. Care wanted to stuff me in this god-awful rose-colored bridesmaid dress, but I refused—”

“Viviana!”

“Stuff it, Leo! I’m getting there.” She shifts around in her seat, trying to block him out of the conversation. “Anyway, it may not seem like it, but they love each other. It’s just that this is the third time Uncle H promised to marry Aunt Care, and then bailed on her. So she’s not speaking to him until he says I do.”

“If they love each other, why doesn’t he want to get married?” I ask, confused.

“He doesn’t want to get married because he loves her,” Leo explains, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “Marriage means turning Care into a Serra. Hugo doesn’t need a piece of paper to validate their relationship. Just like Viv and I don’t need it to know she’s our aunt.”

“It’s not about that,” Viviana argues. “They’re not even filing for a license. Aunt Care just wants what she should have gotten years ago. The big wedding, the white dress, a special day just for them. For years, they dated in secret. When she got pregnant with Siena, Uncle H. didn’t even allow her to put his last name on the birth certificate! Aunt Care’s whole life has been about doing what our uncle wants. This stupid curse has controlled so many aspects of their lives. It’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well the bloody woman is being ridiculous, if you ask me. She’s putting her life at risk, and Hugo is a fool for putting up with it.”

Viviana huffs, shaking her head at Leo. “Ugh, men. You don’t get it.”

“We get it just fine. Uncle Adriel is a perfect example.”

“Who is Uncle Adriel?” I ask, trying to decipher the conversation. “And why is he a perfect example?”

Viviana looks away. “He’s the youngest of Daddy’s siblings,” she says, her voice several degrees colder. “He was married once…his wife was murdered on their honeymoon.”

“Found tied to the hotel bed with her throat slit,” Leo adds, also sounding cold and distant. “That’s the reality of marrying into our family. That’s what Care has to look forward to.”

Whoa.

How unbelievably tragic. I keep forgetting there are murders I haven’t yet heard about or how far throughout our family this curse spreads. It makes me wonder what they’ll be saying about me in a year’s time. Will I be gone too? Will they be speaking about my own death in hushed tones?

Casper looks over at me, frowning. “Change the subject,” he says, a little too gruffly.

“Fuck that.” Leo shakes his head, eyeing us over his shoulder. “None of that babying bullshit, Cas. She needs to know what she’s in for.”

“I said change the subject.”

Casper looks ready to pummel Leo. I lace my fingers through his. “I’m fine.” I squeeze his hand to reassure him. “Besides, Leo is right. Pretending these murders aren’t happening won’t help prepare me.”

“You don’t need to know every goddamn gory detail either.”

Leo makes a right turn, slowing the car. “You won’t be there next time the killer shows up, Casper. The more she knows, the more she can use to her advantage.” His gaze shifts back to me. “We’ll put you in self-defense classes right away. Viv and I know how to handle ourselves, and so will you.”

It’s some sort of plan, at least.

Leo pulls up alongside an elegant three-story, red-brick Georgian townhouse. I don’t know much about the cost of living in London, but this place looks expensive.

A barefoot wispy woman sporting a stylish blonde bob rushes straight across the front lawn, past Leo and Viviana, until she reaches me. Then promptly attacks me. No, wait. This is a hug. She’s hugging me. “Amelia Serra, I never thought I’d see the day!” She backs up, fiercely gripping my shoulders. “Be still my heart, another niece-daughter. That’s what I call Vivvy—I’m your Aunt Carousel, by the way. Guess I should’ve started with that.”

I smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Goodness, you’re a replica of your sister, aren’t you? My Siena shares your same Serra features, except she has my eyes.”

Carousel’s eyes are a rich indigo blue that reminds me of the ocean. Tossing, churning, and effervescent. “She’s lucky; your eyes are lovely.”

“Oh, and you’re a darling, too. Can I keep her?” she asks, looking around. “Casper—is that you?”

He makes his way up the driveway, our suitcases in tow. “Depends. Did you make those crumpet thingies?”

“There’s a whole batch waiting for you on the counter.”

He grins and leans down to kiss Carousel on the cheek. “You’re the best, Care.”

“Don’t I know it.” She wraps her slender arm around me, leading me inside the house. “I’m so happy you’re here. Not the circumstances that brought you, of course, but this is your home, too, and you’re always welcome.”

This woman is bubblier than champagne and dripping with kindness. If this is who raised my brother and sister, their souls can’t be as dark as they make it seem. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get you settled. You can have Siena’s room. She’s at boarding school during the school year, but you’ll get to meet her at the—ah, ceremony, this weekend. Did Vivvy tell you about the ceremony?”

I nod.

“Good. These are the only type of family get-togethers we have nowadays. Secret ones. We’re all meeting late at night in an undisclosed location just outside of Marseille. Hugo and I know where it is, but everyone else will find out just before.” She grins at me, excited. “Most of the Serras will be there. You’ll get to meet your entire at family all at once.”

My entire family.

All at once.

My stomach drops out from under me. When Viviana mentioned the wedding, I didn’t consider that. The bombs just keep on dropping.

I’m okay with this one though. After being hit with so many negatives, this feels like a positive. I’ll take that for what it’s worth.

Stepping inside Carousel’s home gives me a glimpse of what I’ve been missing out on all these years. Unlike the house I grew up in, this place feels lived in. It’s clean, but full of clutter at the same time. Photographs line every inch of wall space. It smells like a bakery, and my stomach growls. Coffee percolates in the coffee maker. The TV blares a news broadcast from the living room. Papers are scattered all over the dining room table. Laundry tumbles in the dryer. There’s chaos everywhere I look, but the chaos is warm and inviting.

Carousel helps me get settled into her daughter’s Harry Potter themed bedroom. The teenager’s picture on the wall displays an unmistakable Serra girl, with features put together in a slightly different way, a mouthful of braces, and deep blue eyes just like her mom.

“I’ll apologize for her in advance,” Carousel says, drawing back the maroon and gold colored curtains. “She’s had a massive crush on Casper since she was a little girl. She’s going to hate you.”

I twist my body around, away from the pictures on the wall. “What? No, you’re mistaken—”

Carousel wags her finger my way, smirking. “Don’t even bother denying it. I noticed it right away. You’ve only been here for a few minutes, but he’s watched your every move.”

“He’s used to it. My father asked him to watch me in Florida. That’s how we met.” I shrug, as if it’s nothing.

“It didn’t look like it was out of habit.” She shakes her head, giving me a knowing look. “No, I don’t think so. Nothing gets past me when it comes to men. Nothing—which is lucky for your Uncle Hugo; I probably would have left him a long time ago if I couldn’t easily pick up on the emotions he tried so hard to hide.” She glances around the room, then back at me, smiling. “Casper has his issues. I should warn you to stay away. That’s what a good aunt would do.”

“Is this a warning?”

She laughs. “I said it’s what a good aunt would do.”

The way she talks reels me in. This conversation should be uncomfortable, she’s still a stranger, but I have to fight against the urge to spill everything. I move to the hanging birdcage encasing a stuffed Hedwig. “It’s really not like that.”

“Whatever you say, darling niece. I’ll hold onto my told you so for a later date.” She disappears back through the door.

Ha.

I like Carousel, but she can take her told you so and feed it to the birds. Last night was a mistake. My body doesn’t agree, but my mind still realizes how completely different Casper and I are. He’s a jet-setting gambler. I’m trying to plant my feet in the ground. He is fleeting. And I want…more. I want all the things I couldn’t find in Noah or Ethan. And right now, I’d just like to live long enough to see that happen. Someday, if I ever make it to the other side of this dark tunnel, I’ll look to see if there’s anyone beside me. Casper may have given me an escape, but he won’t be there to help me find my way out. That’s my reality.

As I head back down the stairs, I catch sight of him standing next to the wooden banister, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he stares at something on the wall. I pause to catch my breath at the sight of him, my stomach flip-flopping. While he’s nearby, this whole wanting more thing seems dumb. Everything about Casper encompasses the very definition of enough. Who needs more when he is enough?

You won’t think so when he leaves.

“Hey, come here,” he says, noticing me. “Take a look at this.”

I stumble awkwardly to him, wondering what he wants me to look at. He points to a framed painting hanging on the wall.

My mouth falls open.

It’s one of my high school pieces. One I thought I’d thrown away after Gran yelled at me for wasting my time on such a pointless elective. Madelyn, or rather, Viviana must’ve taken it out of the trash. She always encouraged me to paint. She was the one who convinced me to switch out my “Intro to Business Admin” elective for art in the first place.

The painting is of a baby elephant playing in a puddle of water. My heart warms at the sight of it, remembering the way I’d lost myself in each brushstroke.

“Not much talent, eh?” Casper says, mocking me. “This makes you a liar, Miss You Don’t Have To Be An Artist To Appreciate Art.”

He would make me eat my own words. I consider denying it’s mine, but my signature at the bottom leaves little room for doubt.

“Obviously, it’s a poor attempt at watercolors,” I say, shifting my weight from one leg to another. “A toddler could’ve done a better job.”

He stares at me like I’m crazy. “Are you kidding? Every time I come here, I have to stop and look at this painting. Don’t sell yourself short.”

The intensity of his words infiltrates a deep-rooted part of me I didn’t know existed, filling me up until I’m ooey-gooey warm inside. “You really like this painting? Of a baby elephant?”

“Correction: I fucking love your painting of the baby elephant. Tried to buy it off Viv once, but she refused to sell.”

He loves my painting. Why does that make me so deliriously happy?

I smile, feeling it all the way to my core. Now I want to paint something just for him. I could get used to this.

“By the way, I wasn’t lying before, not exactly. Seventeen-year-old me gave up on art because I didn’t think I had the chops to make it. My gran was never supportive either.” I shrug. “So I put the brushes away, and took up numbers.”

He sucks his teeth. “What a shame.”

“A shame I quit?” Like he’s one to talk. He quit law at the finish line.

“No.” He steers his gaze from me back to the painting. “I think it’s a shame you can’t live fearlessly.”

I’m so dumbfounded, I don’t know what to say. Have I been living like that my whole life? Always playing it safe, never taking any risks?

Fear has always played a role in my life. Today, because of the Serra curse. Back then, because I lacked confidence. But fear is always there in the background, making my decisions for me. It almost got in the way of me ending up here.

Holy crapballs—I think he’s right.

My nose twitches. I don’t like that he’s right about this. I can’t quite put my finger on why that is, but I don’t.