Chapter 11
Elenda's heart sped up as her grandmother turned the next page. The line of names stopped halfway down with Molly Donahugh Murphy and a flowery, looping signature. July 17, 1967.
"Not yet, Lendy. I wanted to tell you what I could first. Once your name appears, your fate is set."
"My fate?" Elenda pushed the chair back, the wood scraping across the stone, and picked up her crutches. "I'm not interested in being some kind of caretaker here. Dad loves this place. What about him?"
"The pact doesn't work that way," Gram said with a sigh. "We don't choose this place. This place chooses us. Sometimes I think that's part of the damaged magic. The building wants the ones who don't return the feeling."
"Well, I'm not going to sit around here and turn into some kind of throwback bitte
