“I can’t control which card I draw. It’s foolish to ignore a warning like this.”
A horn honked outside and someone yelled an expletive. Vivi sighed and shook her head. “But you taught me yourself that Death is a symbol of transformation.” Vivi tried to hand the card back to her mother, but Daphne’s arms remained resolutely at her sides. “Obviously that’s what it means. College is my fresh start.”
No more random midnight moves to new cities; no uprooting themselves every time Vivi was about to finally form a real friendship. For the next four years, she could reinvent herself as a normal college student. She’d make friends, have a social life, maybe sign up for a few extracurricular activities—or, at the very least, figure out what activities she enjoyed. They’d moved around so much that she hadn’t had the chance to get good at anything. She’d been forced to quit the flute after three months and abandon softball midseason, and she’d given up Intro to French so many times that all she knew how to reliably say was Bonjour, je m’appelle Vivian. Je suis nouvelle.
Her mother shook her head. “In the reading, Death was accompanied by the Ten of Swords and the Tower. Betrayal and sudden violence. Vivian, I have a terrible feeling—”
Vivi gave up and tucked the card into her suitcase, then reached up and took Daphne’s hands in hers. “This is a big change for both of us. It’s okay to be upset. Just tell me you’re going to miss me, like a normal parent would, instead of turning this into some sign from the spirit world.”
Her mother squeezed her hands tightly. “I know I can’t make this decision for you—”
“Then stop trying to. Please.” Vivi laced her fingers through her mother’s the way she used to when she was little. “I don’t want to spend our last day fighting.”
Daphne’s shoulders slumped as if she’d finally realized this was a losing battle. “Promise me you’ll be careful. Remember, things aren’t always as they appear. Even something that seems good can be dangerous.”
“Is this your way of telling me I’m secretly evil?”
Her mother gave her a withering look. “Just be smart, Viv.”
“That I can definitely do.” Vivi’s smile widened enough to make Daphne roll her eyes.
“I’ve raised an egomaniac.” But her mother leaned in to hug her all the same.
“I blame you for all the ‘you’re magic and you can do anything’ talks,” Vivi said, letting go of her hands to finish zipping the suitcase shut. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
And she would be. She knew bad things could happen in college. Bad things happened everywhere, but Daphne was fooling herself if she thought some silly tarot reading meant anything. There was no such thing as magic.
Or so Vivi thought.
Chapter Two
Scarlett
You don’t choose your sisters. The magic does, Scarlett Winter’s nanny, Minnie, had told her years before Scarlett joined Kappa Rho Nu. The words came back to Scarlett now as her mother drove through the wrought-iron gates of Westerly College’s campus, passing clusters of girls. Some clutched suitcases, looking nervous and young; others gazed at the campus with a hungry look, as if they were ready to conquer it. Somewhere in this sea of girls was the new class of Kappa recruits. A new class of Ravens, as the sisters called themselves, who, if everything went according to her plan—and if the magic was willing—would look up to Scarlett as their leader in just one year’s time.
Once they passed through the gates, she felt freer and stronger. As if she were stepping out of her family’s shadow and into the light. It made no sense, really, because Marjorie, her mother, and Eugenie, her older sister, were everywhere in Kappa House. Their pictures were in the group photos on the wall. Their names were on the lips of the older sorority sisters. They had made their mark here before her. But as much as the expectation weighed on her, Scarlett was determined to show everyone that the best Winter was yet to come. She would be president, as they had, but she would be better, brighter, stronger, and more unforgettable than they had been. That was the beauty of coming after: she could still exceed them. Or so she told herself.
“You really should have worn the red dress,” Marjorie said, frowning at her daughter in the rearview mirror. “It’s more presidential. You need to convey power, taste, leadership capability . . .”
Scarlett caught her reflection behind her mother’s in the rearview mirror. Scarlett, Eugenie, and Marjorie were different shades of brown. Each was objectively striking, but Eugenie was the spitting image of their mother while Scarlett’s look was all her own, distinguished by a sharp nose and wide-set eyes. Growing up, Scarlett had always envied her mother and Eugenie for sharing so much, right down to their perfect noses.
Scarlett smoothed down her green A-line dress. “Mama, I doubt Dahlia is going to name the next Kappa president based on her dress the first day of school. And wearing red when your name is Scarlett is a little on the nose.”
Marjorie’s expression went deadly serious. “Scarlett, everything goes into consideration.”
“She’s right, you know,” Eugenie put in from the front seat.
“Listen to your sister. She was president two years in a row,” Marjorie said proudly. “And now it’s your turn to carry on the family tradition.”
Eugenie smirked. “Unless, of course, you’re content with just sitting on the sidelines.”
“Of course not. I’m a Winter, aren’t I?” Scarlett straightened her spine and glared at her sister. She wasn’t sure why Eugenie had insisted on coming to drop her off at Westerly; she was always going on about how busy she was as a junior associate at their mother’s law firm. Then again, Eugenie took every opportunity she could to put Scarlett in her place. Including managing to ride shotgun on Scarlett’s first day back while Scarlett herself was relegated to the back seat.
Her mother nodded sharply. “Don’t ever forget it, my dear.”
She shifted to look back at Scarlett, and Scarlett caught a whiff of her perfume, a light jasmine scent that reminded her of the way her mother used to sneak into her room after a long night at the firm and plant a kiss on her forehead. Scarlett always pretended to be sleeping, because her mother tried so hard not to wake her. But she didn’t mind being woken. It reminded her how much her mother cared, something that Scarlett didn’t always feel during her waking hours.
And what her mother cared most about was each of her two daughters following in her footsteps and becoming president of Kappa. Scarlett grew up hearing, A Kappa president cannot be just one thing, Scarlett. She must be everything. Smart, stylish, kind. The type of girl who inspires envy and respect in equal measure. The type of girl who puts her sisters first—and is powerful enough to change the world.
Scarlett had known for as long as she could remember that she was a witch and that Kappa was her destiny. To be accepted into its ranks was a necessity; to become president in her own right was the most basic expectation. Which was why Minnie, who had been Scarlett’s mother’s nanny before she was hers, had spent the better part of her golden years training Scarlett in the ways of their magic, just as she had done with her sister and mother before her.