I Raf You Big Sister Is A Witch -

After she refused, things escalated. The town newspaper ran a column about "unregulated practitioners" and "occult interference." A councilman proposed a hearing. Neighbors whispered as if whispering could conjure reason against an inexplicable kindness. My sister found flour on her doorstep in the shape of maps; her jars were rattled in the night. Someone tried to burn her garden.

I, Raf, keeper of my sister's story, will say one last thing. If you ever see the crooked house with the lamp in its window, knock three times. If someone answers, listen to what they ask. Offer your hand, but not your ledger. And if they refuse, respect the refusal. Some lives are not meant for public accounting. Some hearts must remain private, and some mysteries are small mercies meant to be kept. i raf you big sister is a witch

The house breathed quieter without her. The jars listened. After she refused, things escalated

"If I do it," she said finally, "you must not tell anyone." My sister found flour on her doorstep in

That night, I started a chronicle.

"We misjudged," she said. "We miscounted the currency."

Then the wolves came.