Chapter 62 - Pros and Cons
Morrigan paced back and forth in her room as she vented everything. Emma sat cross-legged on the bed, resting her chin in her hand, attempting to process Morrigan’s frantic tirade.
“So, not only is my face and personal life plastered all over the news, but my mom’s probably going to end up locked up. And I have to worry about the damn reaper police deciding to either lock me up or give me the death sentence!” Morrigan tousled her hair and growled in frustration. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
Emma nodded. “Yeah, pretty stressful situation…” She grimaced. “Uh… not sure if I should tell you something or not.”
Morrigan shot her a dry glare. “Well, guess you have to now.”
“Right, so I think it was Lacey who first found out you were missing, and… yeah… everyone’s talking about it already.”
Morrigan collapsed onto the bed, knees hanging off the side, face buried in the mattress. “Oh man, how did she find out?”
“Well, it is a pretty big story,” Emma chuckled nervously. “And… well, I think technically me and the girls were the last to see you alive. So the police are probably planning to question everyone who saw you at the mall that day. Um… Lacey already told the police about us seeing you.”
Morrigan shot up. “Why would she tell them that?”
“Umm, because you’re a missing person as far as she knows?” Emma chuckled.
Morrigan groaned, collapsing back onto the bed. “This just keeps getting worse. What am I supposed to do, Emma? I can’t just show up alive, but if I stay ‘dead,’ my mom’s going to be put through hell.”
Emma frowned thoughtfully. “Well, why can’t you just show up alive?”
“Number one, people are going to want to know where I’ve been. I haven’t exactly mastered glamour yet, and the police are going to want to talk to me.”
“If glamour’s the problem, then all we need to do is work on it! I bet Hilda can help.” Emma clapped. “We’ll get you leveled up with glamour, you can go back home, show everyone you’re still alive, your mom’ll be off the hook, and everything will be good!”
“It’s not that simple! I left that life for a reason, you know. Because I’m not exactly human anymore, and I can’t just go back to living at home.”
“Why can’t you, though?”
“Thanks, I know you’re trying to help, but it’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be.”
Emma sighed, leaning back against the headboard. “Okay, so I think in situations like this, it helps to list all your options. Pick your favorite ones, then we’ll work out the pros and cons of each.”
Morrigan raised an eyebrow.
Emma grinned. “Got a notebook?”
***
* Ignore the situation, keep reaping, and don’t worry about it.
* Go back home.
* Find a way to fake death.
* Make a ransom call so everyone thinks you’ve been kidnapped.
Emma looked at the list and then back at Morrigan. “Okay, let’s go through these one by one. What are the pros and cons of each?”
Morrigan sighed again. “Alright. First option: Ignore the situation, keep reaping, and don’t worry about it.”
Emma nodded, writing as Morrigan spoke.
“Pros: It’s the simplest. I can keep doing my job and hope it all blows over. Cons: My mom could get into more trouble, and I’d be constantly worried about her.”
“Okay, next: Go back home.”
Morrigan took a deep breath. “Pros: My mom would be off the hook immediately. I could see her and try to explain things. Cons: People will ask a lot of questions. I’d have to come up with a believable story and deal with the police. Plus, I haven’t mastered glamour yet.”
Emma scribbled down the points. “Right. Third option: Find a way to fake your death.”
“Pros: It might provide some closure and get people to stop looking for me. Cons: Don’t know how to pull it off, and if it’s not convincing enough, it could make things worse.”
Emma nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, last one: Make a ransom call so everyone thinks you’ve been kidnapped.”
Morrigan hesitated. “Pros: It would explain my disappearance and buy some time. Cons: It’ll waste the police’s time… and…” Morrigan sighed. “This is stupid.”
“No, come on, we’re getting somewhere here.”
Then, Noir’s sophisticated voice spoke from somewhere in the room. “If you want my opinion, I’d say ignoring the situation is simplest and makes the most sense.”
Morrigan looked around until she spotted him lounging on the chair in the corner. “When did you come in here?”
“I’ve been here the whole time,” he said as his tail swished. “But it is not as if people never go missing. Had you not become a reaper, you would have simply been dead with your body undiscovered. Thus the situation would not be much different than it is now.”
“Except I would have just disappeared one day instead of my mom screwing up and making herself sound guilty as hell.”
Noir’s eyes glinted as he watched Morrigan from his perch. “True, but people will gossip and speculate regardless. Besides, I thought you didn’t much care for your mother. Whatever problems she’s facing are not truly your concern, are they?”
“It’s not like that,” she said, running her hands through her hair again. “Yeah, we don’t get along, but I don’t want anything to happen to her either.”
“But why? You’ve shown only frustration toward your mother in the past, and you seemed fairly certain she doesn’t care for you either.”
Morrigan let out a frustrated growl, clutching her temples and hiding her face. “I don’t know!”
“Noir, you’re not helping,” Emma said, shooting the cat a glare.
Noir’s tail swished. “Perhaps I’m not. But I’m trying to understand your motivations, Morrigan. As I see it, inaction is a completely viable option. If you’re going to take action, it’s important to know why. If you have no good reason to interfere, then you shouldn’t.”
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Morrigan thought about it for a moment, her eyes staring through the floor. Did her mom even really care that she left? She let her walk off with barely any explanation, then it took her two whole weeks to report her missing. Any normal parent would have started searching for their missing kid the moment they didn’t come home when expected.
“Well, Morrigan?” Noir asked. “Do you have an answer?”
“I don’t. You’re right, I don’t know why I should care.” She stood up, not looking toward either of them, her hair falling over her face as she kept her eyes on the floor. “I need some air.”
“Morrigan?” Emma asked, but Morrigan left the room without another word. She marched outside and looked toward the woods as she stood on the porch. She took a deep breath through her nose, filling her lungs with the humid summer air. She should have been dead, and her new existence dealt heavily with death, but the world around her was still so very alive. Her eyes landed on a butterfly dancing aimlessly above the lawn, and her gaze just followed it.
When she tried to get her head around the situation, she found it impossible to think clearly. She felt torn between her responsibilities as a reaper and the lingering ties to her former life. Noir had a point: if she were completely practical and dedicated to her life as a reaper, then the news article and her mom’s troubles would be meaningless to her. But, thinking like that meant abandoning her former self, and part of her just refused to do that.
The sound of footsteps behind her made her turn slightly. Emma had followed her out, concern etched on her face. She approached Morrigan cautiously, as if afraid she might scare her off.
“Morrigan,” Emma said softly, “I’m sorry if Noir and I overwhelmed you. It’s just... I can see how much this is tearing you up inside. I want to help you, but I don’t know what you need.”
“I don’t know either,” Morrigan said. “I mean, Noir is probably right. I can make this simple and just put my old life out of my mind. Then it wouldn’t matter what happens with my mom or my reputation with my friends. I can just dedicate myself to being a reaper and that’s that.”
“But you don’t want to do that,” Emma said.
“I don’t think I really have much of a choice either way.”
Morrigan continued staring out over the lawn. She tried to find the butterfly again but lost it. Then, she felt Emma grab her hand, which brought her gaze back to her. Emma smiled and said, “Want to go for a walk?”
Morrigan tensed up. She really wasn’t used to being touched, but Emma’s hand felt warm around hers, even through the glove. “Uh… sure,” Morrigan said.
They walked toward the trees and found the path Death had taken her on before. It was quite different by daylight and with Emma’s hand around hers. Morrigan glanced down toward their hands and thought of how dangerous this actually was. There was only a thin piece of cloth protecting Emma from Morrigan’s life-ending powers as a reaper. It was like Morrigan was pressing a gun against her head, though with the safety on and no intention to fire it, but it didn’t change the fact of how dangerous this was.
Morrigan pulled her hand away, and Emma let her fingers slip from her palm as she stopped and turned to face her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Morrigan said, looking at her gloved hand as she turned away. Death didn’t have any human companions. Sure, he would engage in human activities and sometimes interact with the public in a human way, but overall he had a solitary existence. His only real company, as far as Morrigan could tell, were Noir and other reapers. He didn’t try to dissuade her from being friends with mortals, though. Only Noir did, and that seemed more about the fact Emma and Hilda were witches.
Emma paced ahead on the trail, placing her hands behind her head. “You know, I think maybe just try not to figure things out right now. Noir’s a jerk, but he’s right about one thing: you should know the reasons first if you decide on a course of action. So… just don’t worry about it.”
Morrigan looked toward Emma, who looked back over her shoulder and winked. Morrigan smirked. “You say that like it’s easy.” Emma slowed her pace to allow Morrigan to catch up. They walked side by side, Emma still twining her fingers behind her head.
“Is your mom really all that bad, though?”
“I don’t know… depends,” Morrigan sighed. “She’s completely irresponsible, and we never really got along. She definitely felt more like a bad roommate than a parent. But… I guess she never really did anything bad to me. Like, she wasn’t abusive or anything, she was just… not really there.”
Morrigan thought about the kinds of people her mom used to bring over, but she didn’t feel like getting into that with Emma right now. There were times Morrigan barricaded her bedroom door because she didn’t feel safe.
One particular night that stuck out in her mind was when her mom and some guy Morrigan didn’t know were screaming at each other downstairs. At some point, Morrigan heard something get thrown and break. She was only seven years old when that happened, but she remembered wishing she had brought the phone to her room because she wanted to call the police, but she was too scared to leave her room and get the phone. The only defensive action she thought of was escaping out the window if anyone tried to break through her barricade. She remembered wondering if she’d be able to get down from the second story without breaking her legs.
The night didn’t end with anything like that coming to pass. The fight eventually ended with a final shout from the unknown man, a door slamming, and then Morrigan could hear her mom crying downstairs as the house returned to an otherwise quiet state. She never asked what exactly happened that night, and life went on as normal the next day except for the broken coffee table.
Morrigan shook off the memory, realizing she had been lost in thought. Emma had stopped walking and was looking at her with concern. “Morrigan? Are you okay?”
Morrigan took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, just... remembering some things.”
Emma tilted her head slightly, waiting for Morrigan to continue if she wanted to. When it seemed Morrigan opted to keep her thoughts to herself, Emma spoke instead. “Well, if I had to guess, it sounds like there’s a part of you that still cares about her, even if things weren’t perfect. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be struggling with this so much. You’d just move on and forget about it.”
Morrigan looked up at the canopy of leaves above them. “I guess you’re right. It’s just... complicated. She wasn’t a great mom, but she was still my mom. And now, knowing she’s in trouble because of me, it feels like I should do something.”
Emma nodded thoughtfully. “Well, it seems like you don’t know what that is for now, so I think put it off for a few days while you figure it out. In the meantime, I’ll see if Hilda can help you work on your glamour. That way, if you do decide to go back, you’ll be prepared.”
As they approached the end of the trail where it looped back toward the yard, they could hear the rumbling of an engine pulling up the driveway. “Speak of the devil,” Morrigan said. As they emerged from the trees, they saw Hilda’s orange jeep pull in behind Death’s phantom. Hilda climbed out and waved.
“Hey, Hilda!” Emma called, jogging to meet her. Morrigan followed at a slower pace. “Morrigan needs to learn glamour. Can you help?”
“Hm… yeah, glamour’s easy,” Hilda said. As Morrigan approached, Hilda looked her over as if appraising her. “Depends on exactly what you’re trying to do, though.”
Emma looked Morrigan over in that same appraising manner as she thought about it. Morrigan smirked, despite rolling her eyes. She imagined this is the same way Hilda would diagnose a mechanical problem at the car shop she worked at.
“So, I think Morrigan just needs to change her hair and skin tone,” Emma said. “We have contacts that can fix her eyes. She just needs to be able to talk to the police and her mom… and maybe some of our friends from school, without anyone thinking there’s something wrong with her.”
“Easy enough for a quick interaction,” Hilda said. “But learning to maintain it over a period of time and without an active catalyst is a little tougher. Unless of course you cheat.”
“Cheat?” Morrigan asked.
“Yup!” Hilda reached through the neck of her shirt, and about a dozen charms and talismans came spilling out, hanging around her neck. “Let’s see… uh… this one should work.” She snapped a metal locket off of its chain and held it out. It was silver and lined with gold, in the shape of a crescent moon. “This charm should help you maintain a glamour without too much effort. It’s enchanted to focus magic over your skin, particularly around your face, which will make it easier to hold a disguise.”
Morrigan took the locket, examining it closely. “Are you sure this will work?”
Hilda nodded confidently. “Absolutely. With this, you should be able to change your appearance and keep it stable for as long as you need. But you’ll still need to practice. The charm helps, but it won’t do all the work for you.”
Emma beamed, looking at Morrigan. “See? We’re already making progress!”
Morrigan managed a small smile, feeling a bit more hopeful. “Thanks, Hilda. I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Hilda said, snatching the trinket back from her hand. She held it between two fingers so Morrigan could still see it, and she winked. “I didn’t say I’m just going to give it to you. This little puppy is going to cost you.”
Morrigan gave her a dry look. “Seriously?”
“Yup. Seriously,” Hilda said, her grin widening. “But don’t worry, I’m not talking about money. I need a favor in return.”
Morrigan raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What kind of favor?”
Hilda shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing too difficult. I just need help with a small project I’ve been working on. Or… more like an experiment. Think of it as a trade—your time and assistance for this charm and my training.”
Emma chuckled. “Hilda, you always have something up your sleeve.”
“Of course,” Hilda replied with a wink. “The balance has to be kept! It’s no big deal, though, so don’t worry.”
Morrigan considered it for a moment. She was desperate for a solution, and she trusted Hilda not to come up with anything too nefarious. “Alright, fine. What do you need help with?”
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