The old lady looked at Mom like she smelled something bad. “So, you’re the witch pretending to be a doctor,” she said. Her voice was sharp, like she wanted to cut Mom with it. “Did you think being kind would make the King notice you again?”
I didn’t understand everything, but I knew it wasn’t nice.
Mom didn’t say anything right away. She just blinked slowly, the way she does when she’s trying not to shout. Then the old lady looked at us—me and Caleb—and her face twisted like she’d eaten something sour.
“And these,” she said, pointing at us with her long fingers, “bastards of a witch and an elf. What business do they have near my granddaughter?”
My cheeks burned. Caleb’s did too. He squeezed my hand so hard it hurt, and his lip trembled like he wanted to cry but didn’t. His eyes went al
