Chapter 47

The wick snaps and sizzles. I imagine it sucking up the oxygen. I gasp for breath. My eyes burn and water, but I can’t turn away. Henry’s hand tightly in mine is a reassuring pressure, telling me to go along with Livie, that no harm will come to us, that we will soon be back to our normal routine. I almost laugh at the thought.

One thing for sure, I am the weakest link in our spiritual chain. It isn’t as if I was born into this crazy coven. My mother and father died twelve years ago in a tragedy that left me a shy and impressionable girl of eight, and the lone survivor of an automobile accident, one that obliterated my family as well as the earlier memories of childhood.

And so I went to live with my mother’s older sister, Aunt Livie, and her husband, Henry. There were two generations between us. I can’t remember when Henry wasn’t bald and thick around the middle, or Livie, silver-haired and matronly.