Martha heard Gothel’s thoughts. “They are beautiful. I will give you some time alone with them. Where’s Lucinda?”
“She’s in the library,” said Gothel, not taking her eyes off her sleeping sisters.
“I’ll go find her,” said Martha, patting Gothel on the shoulder.
Gothel quietly walked over to her sisters. She didn’t want to wake them, but she wanted nothing more than to see their eyes. She just stood there, looking at them and wondering if they would be okay. Wondering if they would ever forgive her for giving them their mother’s blood against their will. And like magic, Hazel opened her eyes and said, “Gothel, I love you.” She held out her hand. “Take my hand, Sister.”
Gothel took her sister’s hand. “What is it?” she asked, tears running down her face.
“I trust you, Gothel. I want you to know that.”
Gothel couldn’t help bursting into tears. She sobbed and sobbed. “Thank you, Hazel. I hope Primrose will be able to forgive me.”
Hazel smiled weakly, drifting back to sleep. “Don’t worry. She will.”
Gothel hoped Hazel was right. “Sleep now, my sister. I love you.” But Hazel was asleep.
Gothel met with Lucinda, Ruby, and Martha in the hallway on her way down to the vault. “Can you sit with my sisters until I come back?”
“Of course. It will be our pleasure,” said Lucinda.
As she was about to open the vault door with the large skeleton key, she was overcome by an inexplicable feeling that her mother was waiting for her in the vault. Don’t be so ridiculous, Gothel! she told herself. Maybe it was just her mother’s blood she was sensing. Maybe it was nothing at all, but she couldn’t shake it. She had been standing there for what seemed like hours before she finally opened the door.
There was nothing there but wooden chests with her family’s fortune. They had more money than they could need for many lifetimes over. But she supposed that was the point. Her family members lived extremely long lives.
Focus, Gothel. Find the blood.
She counted from the ceiling, like Jacob had instructed her, and pushed the seventh stone. There was a resounding sigh as a stone drawer sprung out of the wall, knocking her in the chest. It was as if her mother was giving her one final blow. But that wouldn’t be the final blow, would it? Not if her sisters died.
“Stop it, Gothel!” she said aloud to no one but herself. “Your sisters are not going to die!”
Her mother’s blood was in the drawer, as promised. It was in a glass bottle sealed with a waxed cork. Along with it was a note. Gothel’s hands shook and her heart sank as she read it. She couldn’t bear to see her mother’s handwriting. It was fancy script, and old-fashioned, the capital letters large and ornate. It was addressed to her.
My dearest Gothel,
If you are reading this, then I have passed into the mists without giving you my blood. It is likely your instinct is to share the blood with your sisters, but this blood is meant for you alone.
If your sisters should ever fall ill, the only thing that will help them is the rapunzel flower. Take your sisters to the conservatory amongst the flowers and recite this incantation.
Flower, gleam and glow
Let your power shine
Make the clock reverse
Bring back what once was mine
Heal what has been hurt
Change the fates’ design
Save what has been lost
Bring back what once was mine…
What once was mine
As the flowers glow, your sisters will be restored. Keep reciting the incantation until they are fully healed