Beyond the Broken Angel

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"You did magic," Marguerite spat. "I saw you."

"I saw her, too," Frank spoke up, blue eyes bright. "I simply blinked and then she was there, lying on the ground."

Will and Giselle's eyes met, both seemingly at a loss for words.

Giselle drew closer to him. "I think we should tell them," she said, voice low.

Will stayed silent for a few moments as he thought it over before nodding. "It seems like our only option." He sighed, looking over to his brother. "Frank," he turned to look at his cousin, "Marguerite, we have something a bit . . . strange to tell you both."

So they all settled in the living room as Will and Giselle told the tale of the tree, taking turns explaining and elaborating. Once they were finished, they were left with two, very stunned individuals.

"So . . . that's where you've been this whole time?" Frank asked Giselle. "In the future?"

"I want proof," Marguerite said, sticking her nose into the air as she crossed her arms. "I won't believe this little story of yours until I see proof."

Will and Giselle exchanged a look before Giselle went over to her suitcase, pulling out the most high-tech thing she had with her—a curling iron with detachable wands in different sizes.

"Um, here," Giselle said, handing off the case to Marguerite.

Marguerite opened it, frowning as she looked down. "What is this?"

"A curling iron," Giselle told her, pointing at the different barrels. "You can attach any of those to it and it will curl you hair. The bigger the barrel, the bigger the curl."

Marguerite's eyes lit up. "Heavens! How fancy!" She looked up to Giselle. "What else do you have in there?"

"Not much," Giselle told her, "but I can bring more stuff the next time I come."

"But you cannot tell anyone," Will said suddenly. "Either of you. No one is to find out about this. Understand?" His voice was stern, his eyes hard as he looked from Frank to Marguerite and back.

"I won't tell a soul," Marguerite promised. "I especially won't if you let me try out this curling contraption."

Giselle shrugged. "Heck, you can have it for all I care."

Marguerite shrieked. "Oh! I'm going to go freshen up my curls right now!" She stood up, hugging the case to her chest as she bounded off.

"Well," Giselle breathed out, watching her go, "she's something else." She caught Will's eyes. "How long will she be staying?"

"Indefinitely," Will replied. "Her father—my uncle—just died. I've offered to house her as long as she would like."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Giselle replied immediately.

"It's alright. We've known this was going to happen for some time now." He tucked his hands into his pockets, looking downward.

"Um, Will," Frank spoke up, "when will we be going to the cinema?"

"'Cinema?' You're going to a cinema?" Giselle echoed.