Lenora's Grimoire

Chapter Four

Her first instinct was to call home—especially since she'd already called her grandma that morning. Calling home wouldn't seem as terrifying after having that conversation.

She hesitated regardless, her fingers hovering over the number buttons on her cellphone as she stood outside, at the top of the library steps.

She glanced up to look at the town she'd grown used to calling home.

The town around her carried on with its day, slow and carefree. People murmured friendly greetings as they passed one another on the street. Children raced after each other, down to the park, screaming and laughing as they grabbed bicycles and skateboards they'd abandoned outside of the local ice cream parlor.

Calling home, Cherish realized, as she stood there, would only ruin her perception of the sleepy town she lived in. It would only bring chaos and pain with it.

She opened up her internet search engine and typed in the local college, looking for a staff directory. It took her a few extra minutes, but having found the contact she was looking for, she dialed the number and held the phone to her ear.

She peeked back into the library, letting out a small sigh of relief as she saw Lenora's grimoire right where she'd left it, on the front desk, tucked underneath her computer keyboard.

The phone rang several times, then kicked straight into an automated voicemail. The professor's voice, recorded at some earlier time, asked Cherish to leave her name, number, and a brief message, and he would return her call as soon as he was able to.

Cherish frowned and hung up. She was starting to seriously regret offering her help at all.

She walked back into the library and went straight to her desk, where she sat down and slipped the grimoire out from under her keyboard.

"Any luck?"

She glanced upward at the sound of the man's voice. "Not with the local college," she said.

The hopeful eagerness on the man's face fell. "Oh," he said. "Is there anyone else you could call?"

Yes, Cherish wanted to say, there is, but I haven't spoken to them since I escaped through my bedroom window one night, ran away, and never looked back.

"Have you tried talking to any botanists?" She asked instead.

"Countless," the man sighed. "Either they've laughed me out of their offices at the idea of trying to revive something so close to death, or haven't even responded to my emails."

Cherish drummed her fingers against the grimoire. It responded with an unpleasant tingle against her fingertips every time they tapped down onto the cover. She tried to ignore the sensation. "Could you just get her another plant?"

The man scoffed. "She would be able to tell it was a different plant," he said. "She must have had it for years, and I wouldn't even know where to begin looking for one that looks similar, especially with already having been laughed out of botanists' offices. I doubt anyone would be willing to help me find a replacement."

He glanced down at the plant. "Besides, if she ever found out, she'd be heartbroken."

Cherish let out a huff of air. "Alright," she said, after a moment. She was still hating the idea, but the man hadn't given her any other options. "There's one more phone call I can make. But if it doesn't work out, there's nothing more I'd be able to do to help you."

The man nodded. "I understand," he said. "I do appreciate the help—even if it doesn't work out."

Cherish pulled out her cellphone again and stared down at the keyboard.

She was only calling home.

What was the worst they would do, hex her?

(A/N) Final Chapter Word Count: 618