Chapter 8

After butchering my hair, Francesca sat back down and wrapped it in what looked like some sort of leaf, then slid it over to the front of the desk.

I was still reeling from the hair thing and didn’t move. “Oh, I didn’t take that much off, and you can hardly notice,” Francesca said as if she was reading my mind. She wrote a few things down on her pad, then tore the paper off and handed it to me. I grabbed it along with the hair leaf. The list consisted of a candle and some oil.

“Take that list to the front. Mrs. Quintero will gather the rest of the supplies for you to take home. Once you get there, follow those instructions very carefully. If you do, you will get the answers that you seek.”

“You mean we aren’t going to do this here?” I asked, a little baffled by the situation.