"Emma! I'm so pleased you could make it," Maeve says and lets me in. She seems more friendly today and less suspicious.
I decided to come alone this time. This is my battle to fight, and I don't want to drag him along every single time.
"Thanks for doing this for me, Maeve."
"Nonsense. We, fellow witches, need to stick together," she says, smiling.
It's still weird to think of myself as a witch, but I don't argue.
We step into a cozy study, shelves packed with leatherbound grimoires and curious artifacts glinting in the firelight. The scent of sandalwood and cinnamon mingles in the air. I run my fingers over spines of ancient texts, pulse quickening. So much knowledge within these walls.
Maeve gestures to two plush armchairs by the hearth. "Come, sit. We have much to discuss."
I sit
