If you like the story, consider donating at sashanebraska.com or subscribe to the patreon at patreon.com/SashaNebraska


Becca sat on her bed, candle light filled the room. Aunt Jo’s large book sat in front of her. She couldn’t help but have a slight amount of fear inside the recesses of her thoughts. One of the spells in Aunt Jo’s books was one that would “illuminate any wrongdoings” and she thought it was a useful spell to help her discover just who was with her and who was against her.

She read through the supply list.


1 large purple candle

1 white cloth

1 lapis lazuli gemstone

3 smoky quartz


That seemed easy enough. It was the directions that would be a problem.


Wave your wand over the smoky quartz and repeat 3 times for each of the quartz stones:


Smoke fills, collect the lies, let the truth be clear.


Shit. I don’t have a wand.


Becca closed up the book and blew out the candle. Light from the streetlamp flowed through the window. She looked at the cracked screen of her phone hoping to see Andrew’s name, but it wasn’t there.

The vibration at 4AM woke her. This time it was Andrew’s name on her broken phone. She swiped to read his message.

“Can’t sleep. You up?”

“Am now.”


Becca sighed and sat up. “What’s up?” she typed.

She watched the bubbles dance on the phone. Then they stopped and started again. She wondered what he could possibly be thinking.

“Are you okay?” finally lit up on the screen.

“I am, or I will be, either way.”

“I’m sorry. If that matters at all.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to.”

Becca paused. Took a deep breath and pulled back from the feelings she had of anger and hurt. “You’ve known for awhile what she has been up to.”

She watched the bubbles dance again and again. Finally, they stopped and the phone buzzed. Andrew was calling. She stared at it for a time. She wasn’t sure she could take the sound of his voice.


“I thought it would be easier to talk,” Andrew’s smooth voice melted through the air.

“You’re probably right about that,” Becca replied and then waited for him.

“I didn’t realize the papers were connected to you until the end. Jenny and your dad had me looking up different laws and ordinances and they had me looking at the buildings downtown to see who owned them. As soon as I figured out why, I tried to call you.”

“Okay,” Becca said.


“Okay,” Becca, out of habit, shrugged in the darkness of her own room. “What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” Andrew replied. Becca could hear the defeat in his voice.

That was how it was left. Becca eventually hung up the phone and then was wide awake. She wanted to be mad at him for that, but she was more comforted by the fact that he called and tried to make things right.

She sat in her bed and stared out the window for awhile. The aching in her would not subside so she tried to explore where it originated. She had never before had to question the sincerity of her sister. She began to wonder if she ever really knew her at all.

The sun began to rise. She looked over at the clock. 7:63AM. She blinked and looked again. 7:36AM. She wondered if it was too early to text Morgan. Even though she did not want to let her know her intention, because the spell she was about to cast included her, she knew Morgan was the only one who could help her.

Do it. But the text had already been sent. “Hey.”

Five minutes passed before the reply came back, “Good morning!”

“I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No worries. I was up.” And then Morgan added. “What do you need?”

Becca contemplated again whether or not she should ask Morgan for help. She wanted so badly to discuss the idea with Jenny. But the answer came easily. She looked over and could have sworn she saw her Aunt Jo rocking in the chair in the corner. “You can trust her,” Aunt Jo said and went back to her reading.

“I need a wand,” Becca sent. Her heart began to race as she waited for the response. She didn’t know why it made her so nervous to ask.

“I know who can help with that, but you might not like it.”

Becca knew the answer. Gerard Honeyweather. The attorney that first contacted her about Aunt Jo’s estate and terms of her will. Some days she wished she had never met him.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.