Spells for Forgetting

This section escalates the story’s tension in a number of ways, as well as highlighting the interconnectivity of Saoirse Island and the theme of community. As tensions rise, the island’s social dynamics begin to take on a more ominous tone, reflecting how the community enforces its own brand of justice. Chapter 25 moves into the past and examines the dynamic between the four young friends, particularly August and Dutch. August becomes aware of his privilege in a more immediate way when he offers to find Dutch and his father a job: “It only occurred to me then that I should have offered a long time ago” (153). This realization marks a turning point for August, who begins to understand how his family’s wealth and status have distanced him from the realities of others’ struggles. August has become so accustomed to seeing his family legacy as a curse that he has lost the ability to see himself through any other lens. This newfound awareness of his privilege further complicates his relationship with Dutch, exposing the social rifts that have long defined the town, highlighting Community as a Source of Pressure and Support. This is also the most intimate and tender moment between Dutch and August, showing the friendship that they have lost. The importance of social order is also brought to attention when August’s truck is set on fire. Emery tries to call for help, and August sadly tells her that no one will come. The act of burning August’s truck illustrates the community’s power to ostracize those who threaten the fragile balance of their world. This scene highlights the island’s collective mentality—preserving its traditions and norms comes at the expense of any individual who challenges them.

As a character-driven novel, the story doesn’t have a climactic midpoint; instead, the midpoint hinge is portrayed through a retrospective chapter and occurs when Emery and August bind their love beneath the blood moon. This pivotal moment serves as a turning point for both characters, defining not only their relationship but also the trajectory of their lives. The chapter opens by saying, “We were sixteen, Emery just barely” (179). This highlights that these characters are still children, unprepared for the depth of the promise they’re about to make: “At times, I’d even felt like that one memory was the only thing that was keeping me breathing. And there were a million times after I left Saoirse that I wished to God it had never happened” (182). Their youthful innocence contrasts with the intense, almost supernatural bond that they form and illustrates The Power of Love and Obsession. It acts as the divide between before and after, or innocence and experience, changing the characters’ lives forever.

Their connection becomes a haunting force, shaping every decision they make and tying them to the island in a way that neither fully understands. This bond restrains them and keeps them from living full, fulfilling lives for the remainder of their time before they reconnect in the present day. This section closes on Emery’s decision to cut August’s influence from her heart. The scene is told from Albertine’s perspective, through the tactile sensations of a sightless woman, allowing the author to approach the narrative in a different way: By shifting the perspective to Albertine, the narrative creates a sense of detachment and inevitability, as if Emery’s fate is being guided by forces beyond her control. Ultimately, Emery is unable to sever their bind. This failure to break free highlights the depth of their connection, suggesting that their love, like the magic of the island, is inescapable.

Some of the secondary characters are further explored, particularly in the scene between Nixie and Leoda. This is the first chapter from Nixie’s perspective, and it allows the narrative to move away from the two protagonists and provide a glimpse into another area of the plot. Nixie’s perspective adds a layer of complexity to the novel, as she offers an outsider’s view of the central conflict, observing the island’s internal power struggles with clarity. It begins to hint at Leoda’s dual nature; she can be both kind and cruel, warm and Machiavellian. Nixie reflects that Leoda “had always been something like a mother hen to everyone on the island. It wasn’t until [she] was older that [she] understood she was more raptor than prey” (190). This duality suggests that Leoda’s nurturing side is a façade, masking a more predatory nature that will stop at nothing to reclaim her family's legacy. This aspect is broadened in Chapter 35 when Leoda goes to see Emery. In spite of their differences, Emery feels a kinship with her because the two of them were closest to Lily. The most chilling part of Leoda’s character is that she never denies this kinship or pretends to feel affection that she doesn’t feel; instead, she simply recognizes that other things are more important. This cold pragmatism sets Leoda apart from the other characters, making her both a formidable adversary and a tragic figure whose loyalty to her family blinds her to everything else, presenting her complex relationship with The Influence of Ancestral Heritage. These revelations continue to build suspense, slowly revealing the true nature of the island’s secrets and the role that each character plays in them.