“You mean ‘how’,” Caroline corrected.
I didn’t want to give up just yet; I wasn’t going to give up!
“Every magic has a loophole, right?” Just then an idea struck my mind.
“I think we know what to do,” Hope’s voice collided with mine.
“Do you know something?”
“I know a witch who can help us. He loathes my father more than I do.”
I asked all ears. “What’s his name?”
She replied, “Vincent?”
We drove straight to his house—had borrowed Dad’s car and driven to New Orleans. There we met Vincent—a sturdy man, black and tall.
“To what do I owe this visit, Hope Mikaelson?” a loud voice greeted us.
“How’s our lovely Eva?”
I communicated with my eyes. “Eva?”
She answered quietly. “His wife,”
I curved my lips into an ‘O’ and sat down.
Asking the gang to sit, not like it was mine to do, I motioned to Hope to tell Vincent why we were there, as Caroline got up and walked to the lighted candles, and Vincent scolded. “Don’t touch!”
We didn’t know why he didn’t want her touching it; all we knew was that we were on a mission.
“So you want me to kill Klaus…?”
“But first resurrect his ex,” Hope grinned.
We were going to bring the dopple ganger back with the help of Vincent. It was the one way of killing Klaus…
“Brilliant!” Vincent cried.
“Killing Klaus, of course!”
I was glad he bought the idea.
The D-day came and we gathered on a field; Vincent had all the items for the ritual assembled. We were!