Elder Troy
Carla sat up in bed slowly, her weak arms trembling as she reached out and held my hand. Her skin felt cold, but her grip was firm, like she still had a little fire left in her.
“Troy… are you forgetting something?” she asked me in a soft but clear voice. “I came from a witch family. I may not practice much anymore, but I still have the knowledge. I still remember the old ways.”
My eyes widened, and I gripped her hand tighter. “Carla… you’re too weak. If you use your strength now, you’ll get worse. I can’t let you do this.”
She shook her head gently. “No. I’ll be alright. I need to help Darlene. She’s like a daughter to me, Troy. If there’s even a chance I can help her, I’ll use all the strength I have left. I won’t stand by and watch her suffer while something evil is go
