she's out of town. And she has a job." For all I knew she really was out of town, and she really did have a job.
"Oh that's a shame. Well I don't suppose you want a job?" the old woman asked.
"Me?"
"You are Molly's biological daughter are you not?"
"Yea...," I said.
"And have you turned eighteen yet?"
"I'm twenty?"
"Then you are perfectly qualified to work for us."
That made approximately zero sense, but I wasn't going to question it. "Right. Of course." I thought it over for a second, "wait, so you're telling me the job is to go to people's houses and cast spells and scare away ghosts? You would be paying me to do that?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was a job that perfectly utilized two of my strongest talents: lying to strangers and keeping a straight face while doing it.
"Yes dear, that is the job. I know it isn't the glamorous kind of work that a young lady such as yourself might look for, but we do pay a respectable wage."
It was a good thing we weren't on Skype or something, because I was grinning from ear to ear and doing my best not to laugh out loud. "And when does this job start?"
"Well, I suppose you could start today."
I looked at the table, at the fast food applications that I had spent all morning filling out. "Yea, I can start today. What's the address?"
"Oh that's wonderful news. We're located at thirty-eight Paper street. Do you need directions?"
"No I'll just Google it."
"Oh, what's Google?"
"It's... never mind, I'll be there soon as I can."
"Very well dear, I look forward to meeting you."
"You too," I said, and hung up the phone. Find a job, check. Wow, this was going to be so much better than standing over a deep fryer for minimum wage for the entire summer. I couldn't believe my luck.
~~~
An hour later I pulled up in front of an old warehouse in a deserted industrial part of town that looked like a movie set for a third world country. Surely this couldn't be the place. I felt like I should have a can of pepper spray in my purse just to get out of my car in this neighborhood. Amazingly there were a few other cars pulled up in front of the building, so someone was here.
I sat in my car for a moment, looking at the place and wondering what the hell I was doing here. The twenty minutes spent driving there had given me plenty of time to become reacquainted with my obsession over finding Mom. Her disappearance had traumatized me in so many different ways, and I could feel myself slipping back in to that role of a desperate child looking for her parent like a wheel slipping in to a well worn rut. It had taken me years to escape that rut and grow up, and now I was going to dive back in by following right along in her footsteps. I could leave it all behind though, just turn the car back on and move on with my life. Just find some minimum wage job and grind out the summer.
"Shit," I muttered to myself, and opened the door. I wasn't going to let the mere memory of my mother ruin this opportunity for me. She was done ruining my life. I had moved on, and I was going to prove it right now. I made sure to lock my car, then started walking towards the only door I could see, which looked like it was about to fall off the hinges. I opened it gingerly, and it squealed in protest. I walked in and saw four people look up in unison.
"Oh you must be Layla," an old woman came hobbling over, all smiles, "I'm Henrietta dear, it's so wonderful to meet you."
"Yea," I said, smiling, "nice to meet you too."
Henrietta didn't stop though, she kept right on coming and gave me a full on hug, like a grandmother greeting a grandchild that didn't come around quite enough. "Oh okay," I said, and hugged her back. "Nice place you've got here." The inside wasn't much better than the outside. There were a few desks around the cavernous interior of the warehouse, arranged in no particular order, each of them overflowing with stacks of paper. And all the other employees looked just as ancient as