I Raf You Big Sister Is A Witch

"Elsewhere." She paused, and for a beat the lamp's flame tipped toward her palm like a moth. "Or simply away from being your sister."

She returned in thorn-silver weather with her hair long and threaded with new grays, like moonlight woven through black wool. She carried no ledger. She had learned a new alphabet in languages I could not translate, and she moved like someone who had been taught to walk on a different kind of floor.

Rob agreed. He signed whatever small promise she offered with a handshake and a bag of cigarettes. She performed a thing that looked like knitting the air; she threaded silence into sound and pinned a memory to its place in his sister's chest. The woman awakened humming a tune as if she'd never been gone. i raf you big sister is a witch

Then the wolves came.

Chapter Two: The Rules

Rob gave his coin—the memory of his father's first laugh. He left light-footed, the color of someone who had been forgiven.

Chapter Ten: The Chronicle’s Purpose

"Where will you go?" I asked.