The Memory Witch by Heather Topham Wood

wide-eyed look. “Is this stuff for real?” I gestured to the macabre décor.
    “Honestly, most of it’s for show. People like a witch that fulfills what they have in their imaginations. Which reminds me…” she trailed off and walked over to a coat rack. She removed two cloaks that she had hung up. She paused for a minute to stare at me before handing me the red cloak. Of course, the witch would pick the color of my nightmares. She commanded, “Put this on.”
    The black cloak she draped over her back clasped at the neck and disguised her normal clothing underneath. The old woman usually wore a housecoat or a blouse with plain slacks. I watched her as she adorned her body with bangle bracelets and garish rings.
    “What are you waiting for? Our client will be here any minute.” Her irritation forced me to cover my form in the heavy fabric of the cloak. Her smile was unexpected as she stared at me. “Red is really your color.”
    I dared a glance in the oval mirror embellished with pentagrams. I don’t know if it was the lighting or the color of the cloak, but my appearance had seemed to change since arriving at Chadwick House. My hair had grown long and fell in soft waves past my shoulders. My brown eyes sparkled with vitality—something I seemed to lack when I first came to the estate.
    I ignored her compliment. “What do you want me to do?”
    “You’re to sit and observe only. Only speak if I ask you something directly.” It took a tremendous effort for me to stop from replying a snide remark. A few incidences after snapping at Stella, I had ended up getting stuck doing deep cleaning in the bathrooms. While I scrubbed, she made threats of cursing me with muteness until I learned my place.
    The doorbell rang and Stella glided out of the door. I made myself comfortable in one of the chairs and practiced different types of facial expressions I could use to greet clients. The cloaks, mystical objects, and jewelry were meant to portray an aura of power. I settled on a neutral expression, hoping that gave me an air of mystery.
    A redheaded woman followed Stella into the room a few short minutes later. She was a wisp of a thing—barely five feet and probably less than a hundred pounds. Her fingers played with a dangling gold necklace. Her eyes darted over to where I sat and she sent Stella a questioning look.
    “This is a student of mine,” Stella explained shortly. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll only be watching our exchange.”
    The woman looked skeptical. Maybe the cloak and dim lighting was making me look intimidating. I offered her a small smile and it seemed to ease her wariness enough for her to settle her body down in one of the offered chairs.
    Stella followed suit and leaned back to study the woman for a long moment. I guessed her age to be about early thirties. Her pencil skirt and expensive blouse hinted at her possibly being successful in the business world. My curiosity was ignited as I imagined what this attractive and rich woman would possibly need from a witch.
    “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here Madeline?” Stella prompted, showing the first signs of impatience over the woman’s hesitation.
    “My fiancé broke up with me three months ago and I can’t get him out of my head. I can’t seem to function anymore. I’m barely eating and I’m lucky if I get a couple of hours asleep each night…” Madeline’s breath caught as she trailed off. After a second to regain her composure, she continued, “If I don’t get my act together I’m going to be fired. I already received two verbal warnings about arriving late to work and forgetting appointments.”
    Stella didn’t let her go on. She clasped her hands together and her gray eyes bored into Madeline. “So, you’ve come to me to have lost love returned to you?”
    Madeline barked out a humorless laugh. “God, no. He cheated on me for months before leaving me. If I end up married to him, I’m bound to be miserable. Yet, I