The Witch in the Woods

Alinda turned the Whisper’s sign on the door to Closed, marking the end of another day at the shop. Her heart was buzzing with excitement as Evelyn wandered between the shelves, her delicate fingers grazing the spines of books and glass potion bottles.

“I can’t believe this is where you work,” Evelyn said, her voice tinged with awe. “It’s like stepping into another world.”

Ali beamed, locking up the till. “It’s my favorite place in the world,” she admitted. “Every corner has something fascinating, something magical. Let me show you.”

She led Evelyn to a wooden shelf lined with tarot decks, each one adorned with intricate designs and shimmering with a quiet energy. “This,” she said, gesturing proudly, “is the tarot collection. Some of these decks are so rare they can cost thousands of dollars.”

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Thousands? For cards?”

“They’re more than cards,” Ali replied, picking up a deck wrapped in silk. “They’re tools for guidance, for self-reflection. I’ve been learning how to read them with Mrs. Lynx lately. She’s the real deal when it comes to mystical stuff.”

“And you’re getting into it?” Evelyn asked, intrigued.

Ali nodded. “It’s… addictive. There’s this sense of connection when you do a reading. Like you’re tapping into something bigger than yourself.”

Evelyn smiled, watching the passion in Alinda’s eyes as she spoke. They moved to another section of the shop, where Ali gestured toward rows of small vials filled with colorful liquids. “These are potions. Most of them are made here, with herbs and ingredients from Mrs. Lynx’s suppliers. Some even come from my witch friend.”

Evelyn’s curiosity piqued. “Witch friend?”

Ali grinned. “Yeah, Lua. She’s not like broomstick and hat witchy. But she lives in a cabin in the woods, grows her own food, uses thrifted stuff exclusively, and has this insane knowledge about anything mystical or magical. It’s like… she has this aura, this power. I can’t explain it. You’d have to meet her to understand.”

Evelyn tilted her head thoughtfully. “She sounds… fascinating. What’s her story?”

Ali shrugged. “She doesn’t really talk about her past much. I think there’s trauma there. But honestly? It doesn’t matter. She’s a good person. A special soul.”

“Interesting,” Evelyn said, her voice carrying a note of skepticism. “She must have some real powers, though, judging by how much she’s influenced you.”

Ali chuckled, brushing off the comment, but Evelyn’s words lingered in her mind.

As they wandered further, Evelyn noticed a door tucked into the far wall. She pointed toward it. “Where does that lead?”

Ali’s demeanor shifted instantly. “That’s Mrs. Lynx’s sacred room,” she said quickly. “It’s strictly off-limits.”

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to the door.

“Evelyn, I mean it,” Ali said, her voice urgent but soft. “She doesn’t lock it because she doesn’t believe in locking doors, but that doesn’t mean—”

Before Ali could finish, Evelyn had opened the door.

The room they stepped into felt otherworldly. Warmth wrapped around them like an embrace, and the scent of rain-soaked meadows filled the air. Mist seemed to hang in the space, catching the soft glow of candlelight. Shelves lined every wall, filled with ancient tomes, crystals, and jars of dried herbs. In one corner, a rug lay surrounded by vibrant pillows, forming a cozy meditation nook.

Ali’s awe mirrored Evelyn’s, but guilt pricked at the edges of her wonder. She had never dared to step foot in this room, out of respect for Mrs. Lynx. But Evelyn’s boldness drew her in, and her infatuation with the girl made it impossible to protest.

“This is incredible,” Evelyn whispered, running her fingers along a shelf filled with polished stones and feathers.

Ali hesitated. “We shouldn’t be in here…”

Evelyn turned, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Why not? It’s too amazing to ignore.”

At the bottom of a shelf crowded with crystals and trailing plants, Evelyn’s eyes caught on something different — a thick, richly adorned book tucked away behind a cluster of geodes. Its cover was a work of art: tiny polished stones inlaid along the edges, colorful threads weaving intricate flowers across the soft, worn fabric.

Curious, Evelyn gently pulled it from the shelf and knelt down on the floor, brushing off a fine layer of dust. When she opened it, she realized it wasn’t a book at all — it was a photo album.

“Is this your boss?” she asked, grinning as she pointed to a faded photograph near the front.

The picture showed a young woman with wild, sun-kissed hair, dressed like a free-spirited hippie, standing barefoot in the kitchen of a cozy cabin. She beamed at the camera, her arm slung around another woman who was laughing at something just out of frame.

Ali crouched beside her, feeling her stomach twist with guilt for prying so deep into Mrs. Lynx’s private life. She shot a glance at the photo, her heart skipping a beat.

“Looks like her,” Alinda said carefully, her voice low. “Maybe in her thirties. That’s the cabin in the woods where my friend Lua lives now. Mrs. Lynx used to live there, back in the day.”

Evelyn flipped through a few more pages, her excitement bubbling over. “This whole album’s filled with pictures of her and this lady,” she said, tapping the page eagerly. “They make such a beautiful couple!”

Alinda took the album from Evelyn’s hands, flipping through it herself now, more slowly.

Page after page showed them together — arms linked, heads leaned together in laughter, sharing moments so intimate and joyful it was impossible to mistake what they were. They had been in love. Deeply, happily in love.

Ali’s chest tightened. She gently closed the album and slid it back onto the shelf, tucking it behind a cluster of amethyst crystals as if trying to protect its secret.

But something gnawed at her.
The woman in the photographs… the woman Mrs. Lynx had loved…
She looked oddly familiar.

Ali’s thoughts were cut short when she noticed Evelyn wandering deeper into the back of the room. She turned just in time to see her approach a golden pedestal tucked between heavy velvet curtains.

Resting atop it was a large crystal ball, so clear it seemed to hum with a faint inner light. Evelyn carefully lifted it in both hands, tilting it toward the dim overhead glow.

The ball caught the light and shimmered, throwing strange reflections across the walls, as if the room itself were holding its breath.

“Evelyn, seriously,” Ali said, her voice firmer now. “We’re going to lose our dinner reservation. Let’s go.”

Evelyn set the crystal ball back on its stand, her gaze shifting to Ali. A sly smile spread across her lips as she stepped closer.

“Alright,” Evelyn murmured. “But first…” She leaned in and kissed Ali, her lips soft but insistent.

Ali’s breath hitched, her resolve crumbling under Evelyn’s touch. She knew this was a line she shouldn’t cross, not here, not in this room. But Evelyn’s presence, the mystical energy of the space, and her own growing feelings overpowered her judgment.

One kiss turned into more, and soon they found themselves on the meditation rug, the room seeming to pulse and breathe with their passion. It was a moment unlike anything Alinda had ever experienced—intense, magnetic, and otherworldly.

Afterward, they lay entwined on the pillows, Evelyn tracing lazy patterns on Ali’s arm.

“You’re amazing,” Evelyn whispered, her voice heavy with affection.

Ali felt weightless, her heart full. This sacred room, this enchanting girl, this moment—it was unlike anything she’d ever known. She was sure she had finally found what she was looking for.

—

“Chemistry.”

Peter Gallanti wrote the word in bold letters across the whiteboard, then stepped back, standing in silence. The classroom full of students watched him expectantly. He let the quiet linger for a moment before speaking.

“Chemistry can be described in many ways,” he began, his voice commanding, his posture impeccable. “It’s at the core of how we understand the natural world from any perspective. Scientists in all fields rely on chemistry and its principles, even if they don’t always realize it.”

He turned to face the students fully, the intensity of his gaze sweeping across the room. “In a more formal sense, chemistry is traditionally divided into five major subdisciplines: organic chemistry, biochemistry, inorganic chemistry, analytical chemistry, and…” He paused deliberately, inviting the class to fill in the blank.

“Physical chemistry,” a soft voice offered from the back of the room.

Peter’s eyes flicked to the source—Kelly. Their gazes locked for an instant before he quickly looked away.

“Physical chemistry,” he repeated firmly, nodding. “At the heart of each discipline, however, is a shared, fundamental desire: to understand the universe at a molecular level.”

As he spoke, his gestures grew more animated, his passion for the subject radiating through the room. Peter’s love for biological sciences was evident. Teaching, researching, and learning were his lifeblood. To him, the natural world held endless wonders waiting to be uncovered. It was incomprehensible why anyone would try to attribute anything to “supernatural forces” when nature itself was so intricate, so grandiose. Nature, he believed, held all the answers—even if they weren’t yet within our reach.

October and November were the busiest months of Peter’s year. The demands of teaching left little room for distractions, something he appreciated. Immersing himself in his work offered him a welcome escape from the chaos of other aspects of his life.

As the class wrapped up, Peter glanced at his students, feeling a familiar sense of pride. He had engaged with them, challenged them, and hopefully sparked some curiosity. “See you all tomorrow in the lab,” he said, closing the session with a satisfied smile.

Walking back to his office, Peter reflected on his journey. It seemed almost laughable now that he had once pursued medical school, aiming for a career as a doctor. He had chosen that path mainly out of defiance, a rebellion against his father’s expectations that he would follow the family legacy into academia and, one day, take on the role of GallU’s dean. Those years had been a difficult chapter in their relationship.

But now, things were different. Their bond had mended, and Peter felt a deep sense of peace about the choices he had made. Teaching wasn’t just a career—it was his calling. And as he stepped into his office, surrounded by his books and notes, he felt the unshakable certainty that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

—

Mrs. Lynx and Lua strolled through the garden behind the cabin, surveying any repairs that might be needed after the recent storm. Though the wind and rain had been fierce, the damage was minimal—largely thanks to Gael’s meticulous work in preparing the property.

The Thursday afternoon sky was bright and cloudless, a refreshing change after the stormy days. As they walked, Gael emerged from the barn where he had been working. Lua and Mrs. Lynx seized the moment to thank him.

“You did an amazing job, Gael. Thank you,” Lua said sincerely.

“The fence held up beautifully, and this cover here was the right call,” Gael replied modestly, gesturing to his handiwork. “There are a few things I’d have done differently, but overall, it worked well.”

“You are a brilliant young man, Gael,” Mrs. Lynx added warmly. “I’m so grateful that you and Lua found each other.”

As they continued walking, with Gael pointing out herbs that would thrive come Christmastime, Lua found herself reflecting on how much she loved having Mrs. Lynx involved with CURA. Lua had offered multiple times to pay her as a consultant, but Mrs. Lynx always refused. Still, their trio—so different in age and personality—had become an unexpectedly effective team.

Mrs. Lynx, with her surprising affinity for technology, used advanced tools and apps to enhance her work and hobbies. Lua, on the other hand, avoided technology whenever possible, preferring a life focused inward, on herself and her small personal world. Meanwhile, Gael dreamt of adventure. His ultimate goal was to explore the world—to hike, climb, and connect with people from different cultures. Yet, like Lua, he wasn’t much of a fan of technology.

What united the three of them was their shared passion for the garden, a connection that was reflected in its thriving beauty.

Later that afternoon, the trio gathered on the cabin’s porch, enjoying Lua’s famous November tea and a well-deserved rest. As the conversation flowed, Mrs. Lynx’s expression suddenly changed.

“Are you alright?” Lua asked, concern lacing her voice.

Mrs. Lynx pressed a hand to her chest and took a slow breath. “I’m fine, dear,” she said, though her tone was distant. “It’s just… sometimes, I get this feeling when I detect a presence with incompatible energy.”

She exhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment before continuing. “Not you, of course,” she reassured Lua and Gael with a small smile. “You’re pure sunshine. It’s someone else… somewhere else. Somewhere they shouldn’t be. Disrupting the energy in my own personal space.”

Both Lua and Gael watched her carefully, noting her slow, deliberate breaths. Mrs. Lynx muttered a few inaudible words under her breath before her eyes snapped open abruptly. At that moment, the cabin’s old landline phone began to ring.

Lua excused herself and ran inside. “Sorry, it’s probably Ryder. I’ll let him know I’ll call back.”

The phone conversation was brief, lasting only a couple of minutes. When Lua returned to the porch, a soft, content smile lingered on her face after hearing Ryder’s voice. But Mrs. Lynx was gone.

“Where did she go? I thought we were going to brainstorm ideas for the Christmas market,” Lua asked, puzzled.

“I thought so too,” Gael replied, frowning.

“Did she say anything?”

Gael hesitated, then said, “She asked me who Ryder was, so I explained, and… something clicked. She suddenly said she should leave. Apologized and walked off. Very strange. I’m not sure if it was something I said.”

Lua frowned, her confusion matching Gael’s. Whatever had caused Mrs. Lynx’s sudden departure remained a mystery.

Lua made a mental note to talk to Mrs. Lynx about Ryder. She needed to understand if he was the “incompatible energy” Mrs. Lynx had mentioned earlier, or if there was some other reason for her sudden departure. But for now, she had to set those concerns aside. Her immediate priority was drafting CURA’s offerings for Lake Laura’s upcoming Christmas market. After that, she still needed to deliver an order to the GallU cafeteria, and she didn’t want to go too late

Arriving at GallU’s historic main building, Lua parked her bike and retrieved the large boxes of delicacies she had prepared. As she straightened up, she noticed a group of students in the corner, whispering, pointing, and laughing. Though this sort of behavior wasn’t new to her, it stung just the same.

She instantly regretted not accepting Gael’s offer. Their mocking felt sharper today, and a lump began to form in her throat. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she hurried into the cafeteria, placed the heavy boxes on the counter, and turned to leave without a word.

Lua’s pace quickened as she moved through the hallway, her mind racing with frustration and embarrassment. Turning a corner sharply, she collided with someone, nearly losing her balance. Strong hands caught her by the shoulders, steadying her.

“Don’t touch me!” Lua snapped, her voice rising in a mix of anger and distress.

“I’m sorry!” Peter Gallanti said, startled by her outburst. His hands dropped immediately, and he took a step back. “Are you alright?”

Lua glared at him, her emotions boiling over. She said nothing and started to walk away. Peter, sensing something deeper, gently reached for her arm to stop her.

“I said don’t touch me!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the hallway.

Peter held up his hands defensively, confusion etched across his face. “Did I do something to you?”

Lua turned back, her eyes blazing. “Do you really expect me to stay kind and composed after knowing you requested the university board to evict me from my home?” Her voice was quiet but cutting.

Peter stepped closer, lowering his voice in an attempt to keep the conversation private. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. It’s not what it looks like, and I can still request—no, I will request—”

Lua interrupted him, nodding fiercely. “You don’t need to request anything. Of course, you have the right to evict me. And if I have to leave, I’ll leave!” Her words were sharp, her tone unwavering.

Peter hesitated, his frustration mingling with regret. “It’s just… I thought—” He paused, searching her face for an opening. “For a moment, I thought—”

But Lua cut him off, her rage spilling over. “Maybe if there was anything in your life worth living for, you’d leave me alone and let me live in peace. But clearly, there isn’t. Your entire existence is just being the pretty, rich mama’s boy sitting on a golden throne, making decisions about people’s lives as if you’re better than everyone else. To prove what? To impress Daddy? You’re not better than anyone, Peter!”

Her words hit like a slap, leaving Peter stunned. But his response was swift. “You’re giving yourself far too much importance if you think I spend even a fraction of my time worrying about you.” His voice was cold, but his eyes betrayed his hurt. “Maybe I did for a moment. But don’t worry—that’s over now. As long as you pack your rags and get off my family’s property!”

For a moment, they stood in tense silence, their anger swirling between them. Lua’s chest rose and fell as she tried to rein in her emotions. She realized just how close they were, their faces inches apart.

The weight of the confrontation hit her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t stand there a second longer. Without a word, she turned and ran, her long dress billowing behind her as she fled the building.

Lua didn’t stop until she reached the edge of the woods. There, she crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down her face, her sobs echoing in the stillness.