Rivulet by Jamie Magee

it’s not too soon. Stay safe.” She kissed my cheek, then walked past me at a speed that I’d never seen her use.
    I told myself to turn around, to follow her, at least to go along with her, but I couldn’t move. Her touch had ignited visions all around me, visions of my mother telling Gran about how she found me in the snow, visions of her and my mother mulling over endless legends that surrounded those stars my birth mother pointed out. They even had mythologists from all over the world flown here to teach them about the beliefs and lore, always finding conflicting information. One man told my parents very bluntly that I was the only one that would ever know what my birth mother meant, that I would feel it in my soul.
    All I felt in my soul was coldness, the cold that I was born into, the cold that was my curse. With that thought, the room I was standing in felt empty, vacant, lifeless.
    Finally, I snapped out of the spell I was under and turned, but Gran was long gone. I rushed to the hallway, looking in both directions, not seeing her or her companion anywhere in sight.
    I went back to my room to find my phone so I could call Ben. I was mad that he didn’t tell me Gran was better, that supposedly I’d won the case against Mrs. Rasure, that my inheritance was free and clear mine—that I could kick Rasure out.
    It took me three tries to get the call out because the phone kept freezing in my hand. Skylynn better pop in soon. I couldn’t control this much longer. All I got was Ben’s voicemail, and it said for personal reasons he was taking time off and directed his calls to his partner. My message was short and sweet. “Um, personal? What’s more personal than family? I’m a bit ticked at you. Why didn’t you tell me Gran was okay? Where are we with the case?” The call ended then because the phone had turned into a block of ice. I grunted in frustration. I never realized how dependent I was on that scarf, how much it shielded this curse.
    Cadence walked in our room at that moment, holding a steaming cup of coffee. “Looks like you need this more than I do.”
    “Thanks for noticing,” I muttered, balling my fist. “Did you know Gran was all better?” I asked, looking up at her.
    She looked at me like I was insane. “Did you hit your head when you climbed the walls last night?”
    “Looks like you did. What did you do to your head?” I asked, noticing the gash on the side of her forehead. It caused a panic to rush through me, and the room turned to ice for an instant; that was the same place I saw her bleeding from in my dream.
    “I slid on the ice, hit it on the side of the car door when I was getting out.”
    “Looks like you need stitches,” I said with wide eyes as I moved closer to her.
    “No, it’s not deep. I have that invisible Band-Aid stuff on it, but you’re starting to make me self-conscious,” she said, taking down her ponytail.
    I frowned as I noticed how easily the wound was covered when she did that.
    “What about Gran? Are you serious?”
    “Serious. I just saw her. She’s never looked better. The nurses are even gone.”
    “You’re joking,” she said as she turned to go and see for herself.
    “She left, went out with an old friend,” I said to stop her.
    “Indie,” she said before she turned to look at me. “You’re seriously freaking me out.”
    “Fine, go look for yourself,” I said as I sucked in a deep breath and stood to go to my darkroom.
    “Hiding in the dungeon again? Maybe you should head to the North Wing. You’re always in a better mood when you leave there.”
    I was so not going there with her.
    “Gran told me to develop the film.”
    “ The film.”
    “Yup.”
    “Are you going to?”
    I smirked. “It felt so good to hear her voice again. This was basically her only wish. Who am I to deny it?”
    “Do you want me to call the bar and tell them we can’t come in, that is, if they opened today? This storm is wicked.”
    “No, I want to get out.