"What was your name again?" she asked, tilting her head with a teasing smile. "Sam? Or Shane? I know it starts with an S."
With a careless flick, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, and the soft scent of her shampoo drifted to me—floral, intoxicating.
But—wait. When had she gotten so close? One moment she was standing at the threshold, framed by the doorway like some enchantress summoned by accident. Now she was right in front of me, so near I could feel her breath on my skin.
I hadn't seen her move. Hadn't heard a step. Hadn't felt the shift in the air when she crossed the space between us.Had she cast a spell without a word? Or was she already beyond that—so powerful, even magic bent to her will without command?
I gasped.
"Oh, you silly, precious thing," she cooed, reaching out with a smile that could melt winter. "I'm your grandma. Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?"
The shift in the air was almost dizzying. A moment ago, the tension was thick—unnerving, even. But now, she radiated warmth like sunlight through a windowpane. Cheerful. Inviting. Practically glowing.And yet, the image my mother had painted of her was so drastically different—sharp edges, cold eyes, a woman cloaked in bitterness. An evil witch, she had called her. Or worse, an evil mother.
So why did she now feel like the complete opposite? I struggled to reconcile the stories I'd been told with the affectionate woman standing before me.
"I… I'm sorry," I stammered, taking a step back. "This is just… a lot. I mean, I've never even seen you before, and now you're suddenly here and—wait… when did we come inside?"
My eyes darted around, heart pounding. Somehow, we were already inside the house. No door opening. No footsteps. No spell cast. One blink, and the world had shifted.
Just like that.
If I hadn't known better, I'd swear it was magic. And maybe that's exactly what it was. At this point, I was starting to believe the rumors—if not the legends.
Cordelia wasn't just any witch. She might be one of the most powerful I'd ever met.
Though, in fairness, the competition wasn't exactly fierce.
There was her…
Then my mom…
And me.
"Oh, I'm sure Gen told you I'm some sort of evil monster," she said with a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes as if the very idea bored her. "God, that girl really went out of her way to keep you from meeting me."
She cast a slow glance around the room, taking in every corner like she was absorbing it all in one breath.
We were in the living room—my mother's sanctuary of books. Shelves lined the walls, heavy with novels, encyclopedias, and old journals. Mom had always loved reading, collecting knowledge like treasure. It didn't matter if it was fiction, philosophy, or random trivia—if it taught her something new, she devoured it.
But for all her love of learning, magic had always been her sore spot.
She was vibrant, quirky, always full of warmth and laughter. A walking beam of sunlight. Yet the moment witchcraft or anything remotely magical came up, her expression darkened. Her lips would tighten, and she'd steer the conversation elsewhere, as though the very word "magic" left a bitter taste in her mouth.
I never questioned it.To be honest, I never questioned much.
It had always been just Mom and me, and that was enough. I never thought to ask about my dad—she never offered, and I never pushed. All I knew was that he died in a car accident. That was the end of the story.
But now, I found myself asking questions I didn't even know I had.
"And why would Mom say something like that?" I asked, forcing the words out before I could lose my nerve. "Why would she want me to think you're some evil monster?"
My grandmother froze mid-step. The room, which had felt full of motion a moment ago, suddenly stilled.
"Because Gen never liked magic," she said quietly, her voice more honest than before. "After you were born, she gave it all up. Stopped learning. Stopped practicing. She walked away from everything."
The confession hung in the air like dust caught in sunlight.
And for the first time, I realized just how little I truly knew about my own mother.
"Gen was always a shy girl growing up," my grandmother said, her voice soft with memory. "She never liked spending time with her little coven—her 'witchy friends,' as she used to call them. Always kept to herself."
A fond smile tugged at her lips as she shook her head, lost for a moment in the past.
"She once told me she just wanted to be normal. Said she didn't care for broomsticks or glowing wands. Thought it was all too silly, too dramatic."
The warmth in her voice was unmistakable, touched with a kind of amused affection only a mother could have for a daughter who had always gone against the grain.
"And she absolutely hated the idea of me being named a potential High Witch."
I blinked.
Wait—what?
High Witch?
I stared at her, bewildered, my mind scrambling to piece together the flood of revelations that had just crashed over me. The weight of it all pressed against my thoughts, refusing to settle into anything that made sense.
I'd always known my grandmother was a remarkable witch in her time, perhaps even legendary. But this? This was beyond anything I could have imagined. High Witch—that title stood just beneath the pinnacle of our magical hierarchy. It was an honor reserved for the rarest and most powerful. Why had no one, especially my mother, ever told me this? The omission only deepened the pit in my stomach and sparked a burning curiosity I couldn't ignore.
"Alright, Sera girl," my grandmother said, her voice steady but laced with something heavier. "Just so we're clear—I was only a potential. I never actually claimed the position. And that, my dear, was thanks to your mother."
She locked eyes with me, searching my expression, perhaps looking for some flicker of recognition or understanding. But I had none to give. I returned her gaze, confusion clouding my every thought, the truth written plainly across my face.
"We have a lot to catch up on," she continued, a sudden urgency creeping into her tone. "But right now, we need to leave. Immediately. You've been found, and staying here any longer puts you at risk. They're coming for your power."
Power? Mine? I could barely wrap my head around what she meant. I hardly knew what abilities I even had—if any. Whoever was chasing me would be sorely disappointed with how little I knew of the gift they seemed so eager to possess.