Inside the hospital room, Charlie was enjoying Zoe’s attentive care when an unfamiliar voice suddenly broke the peaceful atmosphere.
“What pure young love.
It almost makes me nostalgic for my own youth.”
Charlie and Zoe both flinched.
They turned toward the voice and discovered that a woman had somehow entered the room without either of them noticing.
She sat gracefully in the visitor’s chair with one leg crossed over the other.
Her bright red-orange hair was impossible to ignore.
She wore an expensive shawl dress, long lace gloves, oversized sunglasses, and enough jewelry to resemble an eccentric European aristocrat rather than a hospital visitor.
Zoe rose from her chair and looked at the stranger cautiously.
“Who are you?”
“Who am I?”
The woman placed one gloved hand against her chest as though the question had wounded her pride.
“I am one of your own, Zoe.
You may call me Myrtle Snow.”
“One of my own?”
Zoe remembered everything her mother had revealed and stared at her in surprise.
“Are you a witch?”
“My dear, the proper question is whether I am a witch too.”
Myrtle removed her sunglasses and smiled.
“You are one of us now.”
She stood and approached Zoe with slow elegant steps.
Before the younger girl could retreat, Myrtle lifted a gloved hand and gently touched her cheek as though examining a rare work of art.
Zoe stiffened at once.
Myrtle either failed to notice her discomfort or simply chose to ignore it.
“Your mother contacted the Witches’ Council after your powers awakened.
I came as soon as I received the news.”
Her expression grew more serious.
“The number of young women born with the Salem bloodline has been declining for generations.
Every newly awakened witch is precious to the survival of the Coven.”
Myrtle lowered her hand and studied Zoe with open satisfaction.
“Are you ready, darling?
It is time for us to leave for New Orleans and take you to the place where you truly belong.”
Zoe immediately glanced at Charlie.
He had remained silent since Myrtle appeared and was doing his best to make himself invisible.
Unfortunately, that was difficult while lying in the middle of a hospital bed.
Zoe turned back to Myrtle and shook her head.
“No.
I’m not going to New Orleans.
I want to stay here with Charlie.”
Myrtle’s pleased smile faded.
“Oh, dear.”
She released a quiet sigh and folded her hands in front of her.
“This is not a decision based entirely on what you want.
The Council has a duty to protect every witch descended from Salem.”
Myrtle began pacing beside the hospital bed.
“We may no longer live in the age of public witch trials, but persecution has never truly disappeared.
Ignorance merely learned how to hide behind modern clothing.”
Her voice became colder.
“Only a few days ago, another young witch was discovered by a group of religious fanatics.
They mistook her abilities for demonic possession and burned her alive.”
Zoe’s face turned pale.
Myrtle stopped walking and looked directly at her.
“You would not want to meet the same fate, would you?
More importantly, you need proper instruction before your gift claims another life.”
Her eyes shifted toward Charlie.
“Not everyone is fortunate enough to return after being dragged halfway into the grave.”
Charlie’s back stiffened beneath the hospital blanket.
Myrtle tilted her head.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Charlie?”
“Y-Yes.”
He forced a strained smile under the gaze of a genuine witch.
Charlie had recognized her the moment she introduced herself.
Even without the name, her blazing hair, dramatic clothing, and theatrical way of speaking made Myrtle Snow almost impossible to mistake.
That was precisely why he had remained silent.
Charlie had no desire to involve himself in the conflicts of powerful witches who could kill people with a thought, bring the dead back to life, or tear apart anyone who threatened their Coven.
His current body was young and healthy, but it was not strong enough to survive being caught between those women.
Zoe’s willingness to remain behind for him was touching.
He would have appreciated the gesture far more if it did not place his life in even greater danger.
Myrtle continued examining him with unsettling curiosity.
Her gaze moved across his body as though she were preparing to dissect him on an operating table.
“I know the history of the Benson family’s gift quite well,” she said.
“Every recorded victim died almost immediately.
Until now, there has never been a confirmed survivor.”
Charlie’s smile became even more unnatural.
“I guess I should feel honored.”
“Of course you should.”
Myrtle stepped closer to the bed.
“Surviving what should have been certain death is a remarkable achievement.
Your vitality is most impressive.”
She raised one hand and moved it slowly through the air near his chest.
Charlie felt a faint pressure brush over his skin before disappearing.
“If I had detected even a trace of inherited magical blood, I might have assumed that you were an unawakened warlock.
Yet you possess no recognizable connection to any known bloodline.”
Her eyes narrowed with interest.
“You are not one of us, but you are certainly no longer ordinary.”
Charlie said nothing.
He had awakened in a dead body after crossing into another world.
An ancient book was also slowly taking shape inside his mind.
Even he could no longer pretend there was nothing unusual about him.
Myrtle gave him one final meaningful look before returning her attention to Zoe.
“I understand why you are reluctant to leave your little boyfriend.”
A new smile appeared on her face.
“Perhaps we can reach an arrangement.”
Zoe looked hopeful.
“What kind of arrangement?”
“Spalding has served Miss Robichaux’s Academy for many years.
The poor man handles nearly every domestic responsibility in that enormous house by himself.”
Myrtle gestured toward Charlie.
“Since your boyfriend already knows about the existence of witches and appears to possess certain unusual qualities, he could accompany us to New Orleans.
He may serve as Spalding’s assistant while we determine what exactly makes him so special.”
Zoe’s face brightened immediately.
As long as Charlie came with her, she did not care where they went.
She turned toward the hospital bed with excitement shining in her eyes.
Charlie felt his scalp go numb.
Live inside a mansion filled with witches?
Work as a servant and wait on them every day?
Absolutely not.
“I’m not going.”
His refusal came without hesitation.
Zoe’s expression fell.
Charlie noticed her disappointment and quickly softened his voice.
He reached out to hold her hand before speaking with as much tenderness as he could manage.
“Zoe, Myrtle is right.”
The words almost hurt him to say.
“You need to meet other people like you.
You have to learn how your power works and how to control it before someone else gets hurt.”
Zoe opened her mouth, but Charlie continued before she could interrupt.
“This is about your safety too.
Miss Robichaux’s can protect you and help you accept what you’ve become.”
He gave her the most sincere expression he could produce.
“You can come back after you finish your training.
Don’t worry.
No matter how long it takes, I’ll be waiting for you.”
There was a strong chance that Zoe would meet someone else while living in New Orleans.
She might eventually forget the boyfriend she had known for only a short time.
Charlie was willing to accept that risk.
His survival mattered more than maintaining a teenage romance with a girl who had already killed him once by accident.
There was a simple rule for surviving inside a dangerous fictional world.
Stay far away from the main characters.
Wherever the protagonists gathered, murderers, monsters, ghosts, demons, and disasters would inevitably follow.
Charlie had already decided that once Zoe left, he would disappear into some quiet town in Alaska and avoid every location connected to the story.
“Charlie…”
Zoe’s disappointment vanished and was replaced by deep emotion.
She had no idea that her boyfriend was planning to flee as far from her as possible.
To her, his words sounded like a selfless decision made for her future.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
She leaned forward as though preparing to throw herself into his arms again, but Myrtle interrupted before she could reach him.
“Mr.
Taylor, I believe you have misunderstood the situation.”
Charlie looked at her cautiously.
Myrtle’s pleasant smile remained in place, but her eyes had turned cold.
“I was not asking for your permission.”
Charlie’s heart sank.
Myrtle adjusted one of her gloves.
“The Witches’ Council is responsible for protecting the secrecy of our kind.
Outsiders are not permitted to walk away after learning that witches exist.”
Charlie swallowed.
“You make potions, right?”
“Among many other things.”
“Then there must be something that can erase memories.”
“There is.”
Hope appeared in Charlie’s eyes.
“I’ll drink it.”
Myrtle’s smile widened.
“The potion would destroy large portions of your mind and leave you incapable of feeding yourself without assistance.”
Charlie’s hope disappeared.
“Then I’ll pass.”
He had no desire to spend the rest of his life drooling in a wheelchair while making meaningless noises.
Charlie leaned against his pillow and studied Myrtle.
“Is there any room for negotiation?”
“Certainly.”
Myrtle clapped her hands twice.
The door opened at once.
Two broad-shouldered men entered the hospital room.
Both wore black suits, dark ties, and matching sunglasses.
Their thick arms strained against their sleeves, and neither showed the slightest emotion.
Charlie stared at them.
Each man looked capable of carrying him out of the hospital under one arm.
Myrtle gestured toward the silent pair.
“You may accompany us willingly.”
She paused for dramatic effect.
“Or my valets can carry you.”
The choice did not feel particularly difficult.
Charlie looked at the men, then down at his own thin arms.
He released a defeated sigh.
“I think I’ll go willingly.”
“A sensible decision.”
Myrtle’s cheerful expression returned as if she had not threatened him moments earlier.
Charlie turned toward Zoe and held her hand again.
“My dear, I’ve reconsidered.
The thought of you traveling alone to an unfamiliar city has been troubling me.”
He placed a hand over his heart and forced every word out with solemn affection.
“For now, I believe I should remain by your side.”
“Charlie!”
Zoe hugged him tightly.
Charlie stared past her shoulder at Myrtle.
The older witch smiled back with unmistakable satisfaction.
The overnight passenger train rattled along the tracks toward New Orleans.
Its aging carriages swayed from side to side and shook whenever the wheels crossed a rough section of rail.
Charlie had spent most of the journey being pushed against the window or jostled into the armrest.
Sleep was impossible.
Zoe seemed accustomed to uncomfortable travel.
She rested her head on his shoulder and slept with a peaceful smile as though the rocking train were a luxury bedroom.
When she began sliding toward the aisle, Charlie carefully adjusted her position and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
He then glanced across the aisle.
Myrtle sat with perfect posture while reading a fashion magazine.
The two silent valets occupied the seats behind her and had barely moved during the entire journey.
Charlie closed his eyes.
He was not trying to rest.
His attention turned inward toward the mysterious object floating inside his mind.
The first trace of it had appeared when he broke through the invisible restraints on his body and warned Zoe and her mother that he was still alive.
At the time, it had resembled nothing more than the faint outline of a book drawn with a few incomplete strokes.
The image had continued developing ever since.
More lines appeared whenever Charlie rested.
The cover gained depth, the spine became solid, and the empty shape slowly transformed into something that seemed almost real.
A few moments ago, the final line had completed itself.
The book now floated silently in the darkness of his consciousness.
Its cover looked ancient and heavy.
Strange markings spread across its surface while a faint light escaped from between the closed pages.
Charlie stared at it in astonishment.
“This is…”