“Who are you?” I ask.
The old lady smiles, making the lines on her face become more prominent. She tilts her back straight, then answers, “I'm known around here as Lola Magda. I’m a witch doctor.”
“How did a witch doctor know that I’m a werewolf?”
“Simple. I can see the wolf in your eyes.”
I clutch her wrinkled hands, then say, “Please don’t tell anyone about it.”
“Of course, I won’t,” she responds, slackening her smile. She slowly gets to her feet, causing me to slide my hands from hers. She adds, “Anyways, if you have nowhere to go, you can stay here for as long as you want. But not for free. You need to help this granny out.”
“What kind of help do you need from me?”
“I go house-to-house to sell home-made essential oils. I need someone who’ll be with me while traveling from villag
