My mother was a witch.

After she died, I went through an the boxes in the basement.

Found books of rituals and spells with dried candle wax melted all over them. Small dolls made of straw and scraps of fabric.

Many years earlier, before she died, my grandmother told me that my mother practiced witchcraft. My sister said it was the dementia taking, but I saw the look on my grandmother’s face. It was not dementia.