Read the story from the beginning here.
Part 10 by Margaret Terry
Peta was sitting at the foot of my bed when I woke. "Been a long time since we shared a bed, cuz." Her eyes were dancing. "You've been fainting a lot, haven't you?"
I felt like my head was stuffed with cotton. Maybe Peta drugged me, put something in my tea. Of course she didn't have wings. She was the same old hippie Peta, wearing the same long skirts and floral peasant blouses she wore forty years ago.
"How do you know about my spells?" I hadn't told Margaret or even Dr. Marigold about the fainting.
"Same way I know you have a Fayette in the house." She stood and began to rifle through my dresser. "Why do you think I'm here after all these years?" She finished with my drawers and threw open the closet door.
I pushed myself up and leaned against the headboard. "Get out of my closet, Peta." My throat was so dry it felt like I had swallowed sand. "You're talking nonsense. I have no idea what a Fayette is."
Peta came out of the closet empty handed and approached my bed. I could smell lilacs. Granny, I thought. She smells like Granny. She leaned close to my face and whispered, "You saw them, cousin. I know you did. But don't worry. No one else could see them. You and I are the only living Fayes in the family ... so far." She dropped to her knees and looked under the bed. "Ah. There you are!"
Margaret Terry is the author of Dear Deb, a non-fiction compilation of letters from Margaret to her friend, Deb, who was dying of cancer. Watch the book trailer here.