“You get to my age, you know things,” she said, shaking her head knowingly.
“You are running from the father, I take it?” the old lady said as she turned to me.
I refrained from replying, as I wasn’t sure what to say or do. I had expected none of this. How could she know? I wondered.
“She’s a witch!” Indigo called out alarmingly.
My mouth opened wide in shock at Indigo’s admission, and I instinctively gasped out loud. Our upbringing instilled in us the belief that witches were dangerous. But I didn’t get that vibe from the old lady. She had given me a job and accommodation, and, gruff as she was, she seemed to care.
“I know what you are thinking. You are wondering what I am, am I right?” she huffed.
“Uh, yes,” I replied, dumbfounded.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind disappointment deary
