Olivia got her fingers underneath the box’s edges and lifted with her legs. “Urgh!” she groaned. It was like carrying a boulder. By the time she finally made it back across the room to her box tower, she felt like her arms were going to come off. She shut her eyes and gave three quick breaths. Then, like a weight lifter, she hoisted the box over her head. Her arms quaked violently.
I did it! she thought.
Suddenly the box’s weight shifted, and she felt it slipping from her hands. “Whoooaaa!” The box fell to the floor with a crash. It burst open and its contents spilled everywhere.
“Well, I almost did it,” Olivia said to herself. With a sigh, she bent down to clean up the mess. She picked up a small wooden box and turned it over.
It was the box she and Ivy had discovered in their father’s private collection, the one with the wedding day photo of their parents. Then Olivia’s eyes fell on a small black book that had fallen open and facedown next to the box. Embossed in gold print on the cover was a year.
The year we were born, Olivia realized with a shock.
She picked up the book, turned it over, and was confronted by line after line of tight, graceful handwriting.The first entry was dated not long after she and Ivy were born. Olivia started reading.
I feel as if I am buried underground without the benefit of a coffin, trapped in the dark without hope of returning to see the light. Susannah was my sunshine. And it is my fault, my fault alone, that her beautiful light no longer shines upon this earth.
What does he mean it’s his fault? Olivia wondered. She saw her own name farther down. From the night they came—our daughters, Olivia and Ivy—I see Susannah’s beauty in their faces. But what if they are as doomed as our love? I know now that there is reason behind the madness of the old legends, about the monstrous consequences of a human and vampire loving each other.
With trembling fingers, Olivia turned the page. Susannah was killed bringing our daughters into this world. Her human body could not cope with vampire blood running in her veins. Olivia and Ivy are not the monsters. They are the angels. It is I who am the monster. I chose to flout the old traditions, and Susannah has suffered the consequence.
I cannot undo the evil I have done. But I vow to raise our daughters with the same supreme love that Susannah showed me. My soul may not be saved, but I shall do everything in my power to save theirs.
Olivia set the book down and closed her eyes. She needed a moment to digest what she’d just read. Our mother didn’t die in an accident like the Andover obituary said, she realized. She died in childbirth. And our father blamed himself. Still, it was clear that he hadn’t wanted to separate Ivy and Olivia at first. He’d wanted to raise them together. So what happened?
Olivia quickly leafed through the journal. A lot of it was about raising a human and a vampire infant side by side—“Olivia tried to drink from Ivy’s bottle today, and I was terrified.” And every few paragraphs, there seemed to be another mention of their mother, and her death. Her father’s guilt seemed to get worse and worse.
Finally, Olivia came to the final entry, dated the day before her first birthday. She took a deep breath.
For a year, I have fooled myself into believing that I could safely raise Olivia and Ivy together. Their mother died because human and vampire mixed—could there be greater evidence of the horrors that await them if they remain together? And yet I have forced them to live as twin souls, against sense, against nature, because I needed comfort in my sorrow.
I fear for Olivia most of all. Even if she could grow up in my home without incident, there is no way the Blood Secret could be kept from her. She will live her life among vampires. One day, she may want a husband. She will disregard my warnings about mixing, just as I disregarded my parents’ warnings. And what if she wants children?
I swear upon Susannah’s grave that I shall not make the same mistake twice. I must give up Olivia so that she can be raised in a human family. I love her more than my heart can bear. My soul screams out against leaving her, but I will not allow my selfishness to endanger her. Not anymore.
A clear droplet splattered on the page, and Olivia realized that she was crying. She put down the book and let the tears run down her face. He isn’t moving to get away from me, she thought. He’s trying to protect me. She smiled through her tears. He loves me! My father loves me.
She turned to the very last page of the journal, where there were only a few lines, followed by an expanse of blank page.
I would rather tell Ivy she is adopted than ever reveal my terrible secrets. She will never know of her mother. She will never know of her sister. It is our only hope of putting the past behind us. It is the best I can do for our daughters, and the least I can do for my Susannah, may she rest in eternal peace.
Olivia closed the book and rested her head on the side of the box. I wish Ivy were here, she thought desperately. She considered calling her on her cell, but she couldn’t give Ivy news like this when she was at the mall with her dad.
The doorbell rang, and Olivia looked at her watch. It’s Sophia and Brendan, she realized with a shock. She quickly wiped her face on the sleeve of her shirt and shoved the journal, the wooden box, and the other library things into the packing box from which they’d spilled.
“Hey. Are you okay?” Sophia asked when Olivia opened the front door. “You look like you’ve been crying,” Brendan noted.
It wouldn’t be fair to tell them before Ivy, Olivia decided. “Must be all the dust,” Olivia shrugged, wiping her nose. She forced herself back into the party spirit. “I was just moving packing boxes against the wall in the living room. Come on in. We have a lot of decorating to do!”