“He’ll have to accept us, and that’s all there is to it.”

“I know that. But he’s my family, too. And after everything he’s done . . . well, I at least owe him honesty.”

“I could tell him with you.”

He shook his head. “No, Astrid. Allow me my pride. This is my job, my home—there’s too much on the line for me. It’s my entire world. And my burden, too. I know you think that Winter will have to accept us, but have you seriously considered that he might not? And what would we do then? How would we live with no job and no home?”

“Did you ever consider that I can work, too? Plenty of women work.”

He picked up her hand and held it between both of his. “A man still must be able to take care of a woman, even if she can stand on her own. I want to be that man for you. I’m asking you to let me do that. Asking you to have faith in me. Give me time to sort this out and secure our future. Go back to Los Angeles.”

His words rang in her head. And as they did, it finally sunk in that this wasn’t about her going back to school at all. This was about Bo and Winter. Bo and his pride. Urging her to return to the university was convenient for him. That wasn’t his only reason for wanting her to go, of course; she had no doubt that he truly believed school was important and a privilege she’d be throwing away carelessly if she quit now. He’d made that clear before tonight.

It took her a handful of seconds to change her mind about telling Bo her bold new plan—one that didn’t involve school. He’d only shoot it down. And the thing of it was, she understood exactly what he was feeling, this need to stand on his own feet and prove himself worthy. She wanted that, too. Because in her mind, going back to college wasn’t independence; it was giving in and bending to pressure. It was conforming to an ideal that her brothers had wanted—not her. And she hadn’t failed at academics because it was too hard or because she wasn’t serious enough.

She’d failed because it just wasn’t the right path for her.

“Will you give me time to take care of things?” Bo asked, eyes pleading.

“I will,” she answered. Not in the way he wanted, but she didn’t tell him this. After all, he wanted her to have faith in him, but he needed to have faith in her, too.

She would give him a reason to do precisely that.

THIRTY

The first thing they did when they got back into the city was to head straight to Gris-Gris. Velma confirmed that the shadow on Astrid’s aura was gone. She was free and clear of cursed magic. But after everything they’d been through the night before, Astrid felt that this was less a cause for celebration and more of a consolation prize. Strange to think that dealing with body-thieving pirates and ghost ships was almost preferable to facing the mountain that lay ahead: her future.

Their future.

After they’d made their way back home and given her family a summary of their harrowing experience on the yacht—leaving out several details that came before and after—Astrid spent the day making preparations. Telephone calls and telegrams, secret conversations and whirlwind packing. And throughout it all, her frantic emotions vacillated between panic and excitement.

Please don’t let this be a mistake.

The following morning, she said her good-byes to Bo in private, and that was her demand: that he let her leave on her own, the way she arrived. She hugged everyone else good-bye outside the Magnusson house, nearly breaking down when she saw Greta’s stoic face soften. And after all her luggage was loaded onto the family’s silver Packard, she slipped into the front seat next to Aida.

“Do you remember teaching me how to drive in this car?” Astrid asked.

“Who could forget?” Aida answered with a grin as she started the engine. “We scared the living hell out of the entire household.”

Astrid smiled back at her and glanced at the line of people waving at them from the Queen Anne’s porch. “In a way, you’re helping me to do that again today.”

“Here’s to taking risks,” Aida said as she backed out of the long driveway.

It took them half an hour in traffic to drive to the train station, where Aida pulled up to the passenger drop-off area behind a dark limousine with whitewall tires. A slender woman with a straight black bob and a black fur coat stepped out from the backseat.

“Everyone here is a witness,” Aida said cheerfully as they met the woman on the sidewalk. “I dropped Astrid off at the train station.”

“You can say it with a clear conscience,” Hadley agreed as her uniformed driver hurried around to the Packard to transfer Astrid’s luggage between the two cars.

“It’s really not a lie,” Astrid said. “It’s an omission of pesky details.”

Aida waggled her eyebrows. “Every woman should have a few secrets.”

“Sure you haven’t changed your mind?” Hadley asked Astrid.

Astrid glanced up at early evening fog that rolled over the top of the train platform and considered the question, but she was sure. She’d already mailed the university her withdrawal. She was ready to enact her grand plan for the future . . . with a little help from her sisters-in-law.

“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” Astrid answered. “I’m ready.”

Aida hugged her firmly. “Okay, then. I’m going to head back. I’ll collect any mail that comes and telephone you tomorrow, but if you need anything—”