It ended up taking me a little over two hours to ditch Rachel once she, Nick and I left the hotel. At first, she was vigilant with keeping an eye on me and keeping me close. She clearly was taking Fred's words to heart and refusing to let me out of her sight. She even turned down dancing when I refused Nick's suggestion that we all hit the dance floor.

"If you're not going, then neither will I," she insisted.

She did not, however, turn down one of those light up drinks that Nick had mentioned. It was as he'd said-the glass had some kind of bright flashing light feature that sat between two layers of glass: the part that formed the actual bottom, and the part that caught the liquid, which prevented the light from getting wet. It was pretty cool, I had to admit. But I refused drinking one when Nick offered to buy me one.

"This is so cool!" Rachel squealed, examining the glass in her hand. She looked at me. "We should ask Tom and Martha to invest in some of these! Do you think they'd go for it?"

"I'm not sure," I said slowly. "Maybe Martha, with some convincing. Not so much Tom."

"I think I could convince Tom," Rachel said. "He'd crack eventually."

I shrugged and glanced around the room. "I wouldn't be surprised if you got him to agree."

As time went by, Rachel seemed to let her guard down and her tight hold on my metaphorical leash began to loosen. Nick took it upon himself to bring her another drink and then convinced her to do a shot that involved chasing the liquor down with plain pickle juice. With every drink he brought her, it was easier for her to say yes. She loosened up more and more after each one. And then finally, he convinced her to dance. Part of me almost kind of felt bad for the guy. He clearly wanted to spend time with her and have fun without me tagging along. I figured that luckily for him, I'd be stepping out for a little while.

But at the same time, I didn't want to leave Rachel alone with him. She was in a strange town with a guy she'd just met. Despite him seeming friendly enough, could we trust him to really take care of her if something happened? Or was he just going to keep passing her drinks until she got sick.

As I sat at the table, watching Rachel on the dance floor, I began fiddling with the sleeve on my left hand. As I did so, my finger brushed against the bracelet enclosed around my wrist. I looked down at it thoughtfully as an idea came to mind. One that would prevent anyone from following me and would also keep Rachel safe.

I managed to snag a glass of water from the bar before squeezing my way through the crowd to where Rachel was. When I reached her, I tapped her arm and leaned in closer, raising my voice so that she could hear me. "I brought you some water," I said, passing the glass to her.

"Ooh, thank you! How did you know that's exactly what I needed?" she asked, taking a long sip.

"Because I'm your friend," I told her.

"You really are, Sophie, you know that?" she said, grasping my hand and looking at me affectionately.

"I do," I said, "which is why I wanted to give you this." I carefully slid the Galleon bracelet off of my wrist and onto Rachel's.

"A friendship bracelet?" she asked in excitement, holding her wrist up to her face to examine the bracelet better.

"Exactly," I said. "I'm giving it to you tonight because you're my friend and I care about you...and I don't want you to get hurt."

"You're sweet to worry," Rachel said, reaching out and patting my cheek gently, squinting at me as she did so. Great, she was already slightly drunk. "You really are a great friend," she added.

"So are you," I whispered. "You were my first friend." I felt my throat constrict and tried not to show how upset I was about what I was about to do. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I'm always careful," Rachel said as she started to move around on the dance floor again. "But now it's time to get back to dancing!"

And just like that, she'd removed her focus from me. I gave her one last look before I turned and weaved my way back through the crowd and out the front door.

I walked briskly down the sidewalk, looking for a safe and secluded spot for me to Apparate from without being noticed. I glanced back at the bar a few times. There was still a nagging part of my brain that hated that I was leaving Rachel alone in a bar with a guy she barely knew. Even I knew that could be a bad idea and I hadn't had any real female friends-or friends of any gender, really-until I came to London. But she had Fred and George's bracelet. If anything happened, they'd feel their own bracelets heat up and be able to either come to the rescue themselves or send someone to help if they couldn't leave Ginny. Knowing Rachel had the bracelet made me feel at least a little better about leaving her.

Also, another purpose of giving her the bracelet was that this way, Fred and George wouldn't be led to me if something happened. If Eric found me, the bracelet would probably heat up and they'd come running. But I couldn't have them barging in on that. This was the only way. Our issue all along had to have been that I had too many people surrounding me. Too many people that would get in Eric's way or sound some kind of alarm. Being alone was how he wanted me-it made me more vulnerable.

But what was I going to do if I found him? I wanted-needed-him out of the picture for good. And the Mystery Woman had also implied that the only way she could talk to me freely was if he was gone forever. So, essentially...dead. But was I just going to kill him? Just like that? I wasn't sure I was capable. Besides, I was no murderer, despite all the shit Eric had put me through over the years.

The only way I could even justify that to myself now was if I did it in self defense. So, if he were to try and attack me or if he came at me in any way. I supposed I could provoke him, but he was so much stronger.

Eventually, I had managed to find a more secluded street, where I ducked into an alleyway. I fumbled in my pocket for a moment before pulling out Elizabeth's necklace. I hastily clasped it around my neck, staring at my shoes as I did so and watching as they suddenly became invisible. I didn't want to get caught by anyone lurking around a historic house at night, first of all. Secondly, I figured that if I did run into Eric, being invisible would definitely give me an advantage. I had never been so grateful for the necklace, despite how terrified I'd been of it at first. Finally, I swallowed, closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose before Apparating to the site of the Proctor house.

I kept my eyes closed for a little bit more once I'd arrived. My heart rattled around in my chest. I heard the leaves of the trees rustling and the sound of crickets chirping. I felt the cool night air on my skin. But I kept my eyes closed for a few more seconds to avoid seeing, for a few seconds more, what I'd intentionally come here to see.

And then, finally, I opened my eyes. The house in front of me looked like a lot of old houses in Salem from the sixteen hundreds. It was made of dark wood that almost looked black, with a brick chimney that actually stuck out of the center of the roof. And the front door was a bright red. I smiled slightly to myself. I knew the house had most likely been restored in one way or another over the years, but I liked to think the door had always been red. A pop of color in the darkness. A symbol of hope. A beacon for those who were lost.

Fiddling slightly with the necklace hanging around my neck, I made my way toward the front door, slowly ascending the few front steps and then reaching out for the handle. Locked. Naturally.

I fished out my wand and pointed it at the door handle. "Alohomora," I whispered. The lock clicked and I was able to push open the door with a creak. I hurried inside and shut the door quickly. It clicked shut, sounding loud in the silent house.

Trembling slightly, I stood just inside the door, afraid to move. I didn't know what I was so afraid of exactly. Nobody else was here-that I knew of. But I supposed I still didn't know if anyone else would show up-meaning Eric.

I was also a little afraid to light up the tip of my wand. Afraid to see the rooms that John and Elizabeth Proctor walked so many years ago. The house where they'd lived so happily until their lives were turned upside down. The house where Elizabeth would invite Sarah and Dorothy Good in for tea. The house where Elizabeth found out she was pregnant. The house where-

I suddenly stifled a gasp as I realized something. Elizabeth's secret room that she'd mentioned in the diary was in this house. The room that had been her grandmother's and was only accessible to blood relatives. And I was one.

Trying to steady my nerves, I swallowed and held up my wand again. "Lumos."

Light appeared at the end of my wand and I slowly began making my way through the house, the floorboards creaking and groaning with nearly every step. I passed the staircase that curved slightly at the bottom before heading straight up to the second floor. I moved into the living room, which was at the center of the house and contained the fireplace. Into the dining room that had a lovely table in the center, covered in a lace tablecloth and a vase of flowers. Last was the kitchen, with another small wooden table and a second fireplace.

I moved my wand around, slowly and carefully examining almost every inch I could. Obviously, the house wasn't the exact same as it had been back then. The furniture was only replicas. Period pieces to how as accurately as possible what they would have had back then. But everything else was quite nearly the same-minus any restorations that had been done to preserve the house for over three hundred years.

I closed my eyes again for a moment and tried to think of any clues Elizabeth had given in the diary about where the room would be. I remembered she'd said she didn't want to say outright where it was, just in case the diary fell into the wrong hands. But there just had to be some clue that she had left behind.

I opened my eyes and turned in a slow circle as I bit my lip. If I wanted to build a secret room, where would I build it? Underground, maybe? Just then, a vague memory from the diary popped into my head and I sat down hastily at the kitchen table as I pulled out the diary and flipped through it. I hadn't wanted to bother with pulling it out and fumbling through it, but I just had to make sure.

Using my wand for light, I skimmed through each entry, deciphering the handwriting as quickly as I could in order to figure out which entry I was on and in order to find the bit I needed.

And then I found it. It was the entry where Elizabeth found out she was pregnant. She had been in her secret room brewing the potion that would confirm her pregnancy. And then she heard her servant, Mary Warren, walking around in the kitchen above her.

I shut the diary and took in a slow, deep breath as I looked down at the floor. The wooden planks where my own feet were resting. Below my feet, below the wooden planks, was the hidden room. I just had to figure out how to get in.

I shut the diary and hastily stuck it back into my bag as I stood up again, going back to examining every inch of the room again. The door to the hidden room couldn't be obvious. And if there were charms preventing anyone who wasn't a blood relative from going in, then it would definitely open for me. I just didn't know how. Or where to even begin looking.

Figuring I'd better star somewhere, I began running my hand along the walls, hoping that something would happen at my touch. I ran my hand along almost every part of the wall that I could reach before I sighed in frustration and stopped to think again. Elizabeth said the secret room had been her grandmother's. If I were here grandmother and wanted to build a secret room, where would I have put the entrance?

Somewhere easily accessible to get to quickly and without hassle-for those who even know where it was. But also somewhere that wasn't too obvious. I chewed my lip as my gaze suddenly fell on the fireplace. It was the only spot in the kitchen I hadn't thoroughly checked.

Slowly, I made my way back over to the fireplace. My first thought was that the entrance could be at the very back, but at the same time, I found that stupid. There was a giant cauldron hanging in the center of it for cooking purposes. It was most likely heavy and who would want-or even be able to-continuously move the cauldron in and out of the fireplace every time they wanted to enter the secret room? Besides, what if someone had started a fire while another person was using the room below? How would they get out?

Regardless, I leaned over and wedged myself as far into the fireplace as I could, leaning over the cauldron and reaching out to put my hand on the far wall. My skin touched the stone and nothing happened. I moved my hand around for a bit-up, down, left, right. Still nothing. So I crawled back out of the fireplace and started examining the sides. The left side closest to the kitchen entryway turned up just as empty as everything else, so I crossed over to the opposite side of the fireplace.

I inhaled and let it out quickly as I examined the stones of the fireplace, continuing to use my wand for light. Just then, something caught my eye. One of the stones that was quite close to the middle was an entire shade darker than most of the other stones. Besides that, it was smoother than the others, and it was also more square shaped instead of rectangular. The perfect size for a hand to fit on it. And then there was the fact that the size, shape and color all made it stand out. Going off a hunch, I reached forward, hesitating briefly for a second, before pressing the palm of my hand to the stone.

Almost instantly, the stone moved, causing me to gasp and pull my hand back abruptly as I backed up into the wall. My eyes widened and my heart beat overtime as more of the stones in the fireplace began to move. They actually moved in a similar way to the bricks that marked the entrance to Diagon Alley. They shifted sideways, either to the left or right, until an archway was finally there where the stones once were. Beyond the archway was a narrow and dark set of stairs.

I remained where I was for a moment. I had to admit, part of me was afraid of going down those stairs. There was an eerie aspect to this place for so many reasons and the dark staircase was even more eerie. But there was also the fact that this was what I'd been looking for and now here it was, right in front of me and as real as anything.

Finally, I swallowed and stepped forward, slowly beginning my descent of the stairs while trying to use my wand for light and keep my balance. A few steps down, the wall sealed shut behind me and I paused as I took in a deep breath. I hoped that the method of getting out was either the same or similar to the way I had gotten in. I imagined it would be and telling myself this calmed my racing heart slightly.

I finally reached the bottom of the stairs and found myself finally inside of the room I'd read so much about. It was surreal. There were shelves lining the walls, filled with ancient books, magical instruments, and all kinds of vials and bottles that were filled with who even knew what at this point. A table sat in the center of the room with a few chairs surrounding it and a cauldron on top. I stepped forward and began running my fingertips along the bookshelves. I noticed that while all the objects in here seemed extremely old, and the place was pretty dusty, it was a lot less dusty than I expected it to be. It should have been sitting here untouched for a few hundred years at this point. I was sure there were certain kinds of protective charms preserving almost everything from falling apart due to pure age, but the surprising cleanliness of a room that was this old surprised me. Don't get me wrong, it was certainly dusty and there were a fair amount of cobwebs, but not what I'd expect three hundred years' worth to look like.

At the end of one of the bookshelves, I came across a small, rectangular wooden box. I swiped some dust off the top before slowly opening the top. I set my wand down on the shelf, angling it so it would give me light as I picked the box up with both hands and began rifling through it.

There were a bunch of photographs inside, which I pulled out first. I squinted down at the first one and my heart dropped into my stomach. The photo was of me. I was young, maybe around four. It was taken at the ice rink my mother and I used to go to. The one where she taught me how to ice skate. I was wearing my skates and clearly doing my best to maneuver around on the ice.

The next few photos were at the same ice rink. All of them of me in my skates. And then I found one of me and her. My mother. Someone else had taken the photo and it showed my mother skating backwards, beaming down at me as she held both of my hands in hers, guiding me forward across the smooth surface of the ice below my skate. My leg were entirely too stiff with what was clearly fear and I was looking down at my feet as if to keep an eye on them and make sure they didn't betray me by slipping from underneath me.

My mother looked pretty much just as I remembered her. Brown hair-a shade darker than mine-and clear, blue eyes that were pretty much the same as mine in both color and shape. I hadn't seen an image of her in so long. I hadn't seen her in any form since she'd left me. And seeing her now made my heart ache. Where was she?

I shook my head as tears pricked my eyes and I quickly shuffled past the ice rink photos, unable to face them anymore. But I found that once I got past them, the photos that followed only got more confusing.

They were of me when I was older. Photos taken once I'd moved in with Eric and Andrea. I could actually remember Andrea taking some of them. There weren't many-probably because there were never many happy or special moments in that house that warranted pictures being taken. But there were a few from birthdays when Andrea used to sneak into my room at night with a cupcake for each of us and a candle stuck in mine. A photo of me on my very first day of school, and a few first day photos from subsequent years. I noticed how in each progressing year, I only looked more disheartened and miserable.

Suddenly, having felt that I'd seen enough, I quickly shoved the photos away and stared at the box they were in. I was horrified and confused to say the least. My heart was pounding and a cold sweat was breaking out over my skin as I processed each bit of information as a whole. I'd found childhood pictures from times with my mother in the same places as pictures from foster care together in a box in an underground house that belonged to Elizabeth and John Proctor, who were my ancestors. How was it possible that these photos were here? And how were they together? Photos from two completely separate and different parts of my life.

I stumbled backwards a few steps and leaned against the wall. Before I had time to start trying to process anything further, I heard a noise coming from the top of the staircase. The bricks were moving. Someone was coming.

I froze for a moment, my heart hammering twice as hard by now. I snapped out of my trance just long enough to grab my wand and turn out the light. Sheer panic filled me before I realized that the only people with access to this room were people who would be related to me by blood. That was a good sign, wasn't it? But the thing was that I didn't know any blood relatives. The only other one I knew, I hadn't seen in years.

My gaze shifted to the box of photos for a moment before I looked back at the stairs. Footsteps were coming down them now and I looked back at the photos. Could it even be possible that after all these years, I was going to run into my mother again here?

Mystery Woman said she had known my parents. Had she tracked my mother down and let her know I was back in town? Had she told her I knew all about the Proctors and that I had the diary, the necklace and knowledge about this very room?

Stop it, Sophie, that's insane, I told myself.

The footsteps were almost at the bottom of the stairs now and I tried to control my rapid breathing. I was grateful for the fact that I was still invisible, thanks to the necklace, but it would do no good if I breathed too loudly.

I suddenly registered the sound of a second pair of footsteps mingling in with the first and my panic and confusion increased slightly. I pressed myself as far as I could into the wall as two shadowy figures appeared at the bottom of the steps. I heard the sound of a woman whimpering slightly as the smaller figure was shoved forward by the larger one, who was clearly a man.

And then the man spoke and I almost passed out at the sound of his voice. I recognized it. It was Eric.

"Come on, move," he said, shoving the woman forward again. "Can't you get us some light in here?"

"You have my wand," the woman hissed. I recognized her voice, too. The Mystery Woman.

There was some shuffling before the room was suddenly filled with the light from a magical sort of ball of light that had come from the woman's wand and now hung just at the ceiling, lighting up the room completely.

The room was practically spinning as I steadied myself against the wall. I could see the woman and Eric clearly now. I saw that she was holding her wand and that her wrists were tied together by rope. I saw Eric snatch the wand back and store it in his back pocket. I felt a wave of nausea pass over me and the room seemed to shift again. Merlin, how was I going to face this guy if being around him sickened me so much? I mean, I suppose I had a reason to feel sickened, but I couldn't let that get the best of me now.

Eric dragged the woman over to the corner of the room and tied the end of the rope to a hook on the wall that was also holding some sort of dried flowers. He doubled checked the rope around the woman's wrists, making sure it was tight. The woman whimpered again and a grimace crossed her face.

"Can't have you doing anything to help the girl when she shows up, can we?" Eric sneered, giving the rope one last tightening jerk before straightening up. "You're sure she'll show up?"

The woman nodded wearily. "Yes, fairly certain."

"I should have known," Eric said in disgust, crossing his arms across his chest. "I should have known that you'd try to give her all the answers. You may as well had told her the entire plan. And everything we'd done from the beginning would have been for nothing."

"What can be done about all that now anyway?" The woman asked. "The past can't be changed."

"No, but my point is that you deciding to go rogue doesn't help us."

"It doesn't help you," the woman snapped. "I never wanted any part of this, but you left me no choice. It was either do as you asked or watch Sophie die at your hands."

Eric smiled-an evil, disgusting smile. "Well, now you've failed to do as I asked. You've been leaving her hints all along. So now, it looks as if our deal is off." He grinned wider. "But don't worry, after I kill her, I'll make sure to kill you nice and quick, so you won't have to suffer too long."

I took a few slow and silent steps back towards the bottom of the stairs, holding my breath as I did so in order to remain completely silent. Once I was there, I flattened myself against the wall and glanced upwards, back towards the secret rooms' entrance-and also exit. It was now sealed back up again, the bricks firmly back in place. I wasn't sure how it worked to get back out-I assumed the same way it worked to get in. But the moving bricks would make noise and let everyone know I was here.

But was leaving the right thing to do? Of course it was. I was in some creepy underground room with Eric and the Mystery Lady. Eric had just said he planned on killing me. I needed to get out. But he also said he was going to kill this Mystery Lady. I couldn't let him do that without trying to stop him. I'd also come all the way here hoping to face Eric, not run away. I hadn't gone through all the lengths I had for nothing. I hadn't slipped away from Rachel and given her my bracelet, just to end up running away in fear from the person I snuck away to find.

But I was suddenly so afraid. All night, I'd been overcome with some sort of insane bravery where I just wanted to confront Eric and be done with him once and for all, but now that I was here in front of him, I was terrified. Throw in the fact that I was in an underground room that no one else knew existed and only a select few could even enter, and I felt like my heart would beat right out of my chest. I'd put so much thought into getting here that I'd never really thoroughly planned what I'd do if I did run into Eric.

I closed my eyes and tried to stop myself from shaking. There was no other way out besides the one I'd come in. I'd already realized that if I tried to leave, the bricks would make noise. I could run and I could Apparate, but I'd come all this way. I supposed it was now or never. And if I was going to bring attention to myself, I supposed it would be better to do it fighting bravely instead of running like a coward. Besides, I needed answers. Once and for all.

Feeling nauseated, I reached up and began to unclasp the necklace from around my neck. "You're not going to be killing anyone," I said, staring at Eric, my voice crazily steady despite my shaking hands. "You're done putting me through hell."

Eric didn't look surprised to see me suddenly appearing out of nowhere, but if he was, he hid it well.

"Don't you know it's rude to show up to a party and remain unseen?" he asked. "We were waiting for you all this time and you were right there all along." He clucked his tongue as he stepped closer to me, but I pulled out my wand and aimed it at him.

"You're going to give me some answers," I said. "No, actually, not some. All of them. You owe it to me." I glanced at the Mystery Woman and lowered my voice to a whisper. "You both do."

"I don't owe you anything," Eric laughed. "In fact, you are the one who owes me. You're the one who has made me chase you across oceans because you ran away. Is that any way to treat the man who took you in when no one else would, not even your own mother?"

"You don't know anything about my mother or why she gave me up," I said. "You know as much as I do."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong," Eric said, sighing dramatically. He actually looked as if he were enjoying this now. Playing with the fact that he apparently knew more than I did about my own life. Acting if he was now—and always had been—my saving grace.

"What are you talking about?" I spat.

Eric grinned and walked over to the Mystery Woman, who was still tied up across the room from me. "Your disguises have worked well," he said, crouching down beside her and peering at her face. "But since you've been so keen on giving away all of our secrets, would you like to do the honors of telling Sophie the truth?"

"If you'd give me my wand, I could prove it to her. She won't believe me if I just tell her."

Eric snorted. "I let you use the wand for the lights, but every time I give it back to you, it increases the risk of you using it against me. Which is why I took it away in the first place."

"Then have Sophie use hers," the woman suggested. "You can let her keep it, you know. She isn't going to use it against you right now because she wants you around to give her answers."

"Then her one advantage over me goes right out the window, doesn't it?" Eric asked.

"I'm not afraid to use it to get you to give me what I want," I said as threateningly as I could, narrowing my eyes as I aimed my wand at him. "Will you get to the point? What did you mean about disguises?"

"Do you know how to reverse a few basic physical alteration spells?" the Mystery Woman asked.

"Yes," I said hesitantly.

"Do you know how to do any?" the woman asked thoughtfully.

"Yes," I said.

She cleared her throat and stood up, awkwardly, considering her wrists were still tied together. "To start, if you'd make me about four inches taller..."

I blinked at her suspiciously. This was probably one of the strangest things I'd been asked to do. But after a moment, I waved my wand and did it.

The woman awkwardly reached up and pulled her sleek, dark hair from it's bun. It fell down to her shoulders, straight and shiny. "Now, give me dirty blonde, wavy hair. Just past my shoulders.

I did as she said, a sense of familiarity tickling some part of my brain, but not quite comprehending.

"Eye color...brown," the woman sighed. "And add some freckles. A scattering across the cheeks."

I did as she said and once everything was complete, I stared at her in complete shock as I backed up against the wall again. "Andrea?" I gasped, looking between her and Eric. I couldn't believe my eyes. My old foster mother-Eric's wife-was standing in front of me. She'd completely changed her appearance to become the Mystery Woman that had been following me around. "So-so-you never got away from him, did you?" I asked. "You never really escaped. But why did you disguise yourself as someone else? Why couldn't you have just come to me as you?"

"A few reasons," the woman sighed. "I didn't want you to see me in town as Andrea, first of all. I didn't want you to panic and think he was close by." She jerked her head towards Eric.

"But he was," I said. "You still led him right to me. You've been working with him this whole time."

"Against my will," Andrea said. "You heard us when we came in. I wanted to help you. I gave you the diary, the necklace, the postcard...I circled this house on the map. I gave you all the answers to find this house and this room." She glanced at the shelves beside me before smiling fondly at me. "And you found the photos?"

"I did-how are they here and how do you know about them? There are photos in there from my time with you, which make sense, but also ones from when I was younger. When I was with my mother. And that doesn't make sense at all. And-and then there's the fact that the two of you even got in to this room! Elizabeth's diary said that only blood relatives could get in. So does that mean you're related to her, too?"

Eric chuckled from his spot in the corner, where he was now leaning against the wall. "This is where it gets good, my dear," he said. He meandered over to Andrea and slowly, but menacingly took her by the chin. She grimaced before glaring at him as he went on. "You see, Sophie, my darling little wife here is related to Elizabeth Proctor. But that's not the only familiar person she's related to." He released Andrea's chin and stepped back again. "Go on, dear," he sneered at her. "Finish explaining. I can't wait to see the look on Sophie's face."

Andrea took in a deep breath and closed her eyes before opening them and looking at me steadily. "Okay, I need you to completely undo any and all physical transfigurations and charms that have been used on my features. And once you're done...I'll be back to normal." She swallowed.

"What is normal? The way you looked before? The mystery lady that's been following me around?"

Andrea shook her head. "No. I unfortunately am no stranger to disguises. Before the Mystery Woman and before Andrea, I was someone else."

I nearly dropped my wand. "You mean to tell me that the whole time I was under your care, you weren't even who you said you were?" My voice practically broke on the last word. "I trusted you! You were the best thing about being in that house! I thought-I thought we were...I thought we wanted to get out of there together. And the whole time you were lying to me! And then you come here and continue to work for him!" I gestured to Eric with my wand.

"Not by choice!" Andrea said, her tone pleading, begging me to believe her. "I had no choice. I couldn't get out of the house that night. The only way I'd be able to even get to you is if I did as he said. But I tried to sneak off and help you, as I've said. Give you everything you needed to come down here. But he found me out, which is how we got to where we are now." She swallowed again. "I needed you to know the truth. That you have never been unloved. That you have always been wanted. That I-" she broke off quickly and cleared her throat. "Your mother did not have a choice," she said. "She's been trying to help you the best way she could for a long time."

"And how would you know?" I asked scathingly. "Because you knew her, as you so claim?"

Eric snorted from against the wall.

"Just do the reversal spell," Andrea sighed, "and you'll see."

Swallowing and bracing myself, I aimed my wand at Andrea and did as she said. I watched as she shrunk down about an inch and a half, her hair remained about the same length, but turned a light brown and became straight. Her freckles disappeared and her nose changed shape, becoming slightly elongated with an all too familiar bump on the bridge. Lastly, her eyes changed shape, becoming round and doe-like, and most importantly, a bright clear blue. Similar to the Mystery Woman's, but the exact same as mine.

It had been years, and the woman before me was older. Sixteen years older than when I last saw her. But I'd recognize her anywhere. And even if I didn't, I'd just looked at a younger version of this woman in one of the photos in the box on the shelf.

Rebecca McConnell. My mother.