Where did he go? How did he go? It sounded more like thunder than blood racing in my ears. That was magic. That had to be magic. He had a whole cart! That wasn’t the sort of thing someone could run off with without a sound in the time it took me to turn around. I didn't know what made me want to jump up and down in panic more... That I'd just seen a man vanish or that Ella might have made a deal with him. Did that mean he was going to find Ella instead? Did that make him a witch? A sorcerer? A wizard? A man-witch? But why would Ella want to do anything for him? I had to go find her first. But what if he used magic to find her instantly? 

"Esther!" My mother's voice cracked out like a whip. 

Why couldn't anything be easy?!

"Mother," I squeaked out in return. While there wasn’t evidence I’d been talking to anyone, that wasn't exactly comforting as my mother grabbed my arm.

"I thought I saw someone here," she stated as she squinted down the street. "What were you doing?" 

"Nothing," I said to her hand and tried to squirm away. I needed to go find Ella, but she’d hate that answer even more. The beads stayed tight in my fingers as I angled my body away from her. I couldn't think of a single good answer for them if she caught me. "I was just taking a walk, like I said." Her squint focused on my face as I looked anywhere else. Unless she could suddenly read minds, there was no way she'd know what I was doing. "Why?" Had she heard Auden talking to me? Did she hear anything about the witch? She'd slap the taste right out of my mouth if she knew a trader had been trying to bait me into visiting the old witch. And then a second time if she knew I was considering it. At my question, her eyes only narrowed. 

"You were gone longer than I thought you would be. I was getting worried." More like worried about not getting all the work done. Otherwise, she usually didn't care what I did during the day. It was even stranger seeing her outside of our home. I was the one who usually ran our errands. She had more important things to do most of the time. "I thought I heard voices." And again, she looked off down the street as though it would answer all her questions. Then she finally looked at my hands. “Esther…”

I thought I would faint when my mother said my name in that tone. Exasperation and disappointment. How did she know? With a tighter grip, she brought my hand up. 

"Were you going to sell these with Ella?" 

The handkerchiefs. She was talking about the handkerchiefs. I'd never been so thankful that I used simple linen scraps. It was unlikely she'd see the little cloth that the beads were tied in as any different than them. Then she shook my arm in frustration. She likely took my silence as guilt. 

"Esther, we don't have time for this sort of fanciful nonsense." Every other word was emphasized with another shake of my arm. "It's a waste of time for coppers when these commissions will feed us this winter. Do you want to starve?" Stop it, I wanted to say out loud. I wanted to shout ‘enough’ at her like I had with Auden. I was tired of hearing how this was my only choice, how we might as well be dead and buried if I wasn't constantly pricking my hands with needles. "Do you want to be skin and bones? All to beg for people's scraps?"

I didn't know if I should argue or not. Technically, I hadn't been going to sell them. But I certainly didn't want her to know the truth of the situation either. However, I did want—need to see Ella. Immediately. Another shake of my arm when I didn't say anything. Silence was not what my mother wanted now and she likely interpreted it as defiance. 

"I'm sorry, Ma." The skin between her eyebrows wrinkled and I supposed she didn't want the apology either. 

"You're too old for this," Mother stated. Because she always had to win. She always had to be right. She couldn't take a moment to think about why I did anything I did. "Far too old." Then she started pulling me in the direction of the market. 

"Where are we going?" I asked in confusion. On the one hand, it was the direction I wanted to go in to see Ella. On the other hand, she never went to the market when I could instead. 

"You didn't get the bread either. And we need water. I suppose I have to go with you because you're acting like a child-"

"Mother-"

"So I have to watch you like a child." 

I wasn't a child. The whole reason I was doing all of this was to grab hold of the courage of a grown woman. To save someone else. Yet, I couldn't even break out of my mother's grip. It didn't hurt me, but it ached within my bones. It was almost winter, and everyone's hands felt so cold against my bare skin, as though they were all trying to drain the warmth from me because they had none of their own. Or was that a cruel thing to think about my mother who fed and clothed me? Why didn't I feel grateful? Why didn't she ever want anything to change?

"Mother," I began again, though this time as a question. My tone was quiet, but I was anything but complacent on the inside. I had to think. I needed some answers. 

"What?" She asked after a moment. This was where she’d been born. It was the only life she ever knew, so she’d had to know something more about the magic that lived next door. 

"Is Old Maggie really a witch?" 

I hadn’t asked about Old Maggie in years. There hadn’t really been much reason to. It was easier to pay attention to something that was right in front of you, rather than someone that was only whispered about occasionally. But everyone still thought it was bad luck to talk about her. Like somehow bringing her up would make her appear in front of them. My mother remained silent and I wasn't sure if it was because she was still angry or if she didn't want to answer my question. When I was about to ask again, she answered. 

"Why do you want to know? I doubt she's interested in your handkerchiefs."

"Mother!" While she felt the need to throw a small barb at me, at least she wasn't still fuming. But I should have known better than to expect a straight answer. She'd never give me one when I was young either. And it wasn't like I could say it was because I was worried that Old Maggie really was a witch and that a mysterious trader was going to entice Ella to go to her. Ella was too nice to strangers, she might actually go. Then she might be in danger and would it be my fault for not doing it first? If I asked if Old Maggie was dangerous out of nowhere, that would make my mother more suspicious. "I heard the baker's wife talking about her." It wouldn't be a stretch from the truth. The baker's wife was a gossip. "She said she was dangerous. Is she? Is it because she's a real witch?" 

Finally, my mother let go of me. I supposed because I was asking her questions, she figured I wasn't about to run away. It wasn't untrue as I trotted after her. 

"Oh, I don't know, Esther. Does it matter?" She pushed some stray greying hairs out of her face. "Her children are gone now, that's a fact. She works in strange ways and with strange things. If those things make her a real witch, then I suppose she is. Just stay away from her. People who deal with her don't end up the same afterward. Who knows what the eccentric can do with the foolish." 

That made me 'the foolish' in my mother's eyes then. But it was all the answer I needed. 

"And focus on your work. Not fairy tales. Honestly, when will you grow up."

As we entered the village's humble market, more people paid attention to me with my mother by my side. I suppose she had earned herself respect through sheer force of will. Not many women could recover with a baby and no husband, after all. And her utter disinterest in men made her little threat to the other wives of the village. Besides, she dressed most of them. I would think they were, in some small way, in her debt. Or at least they cared enough to say hello to her.

I shifted from foot to foot as I tried to think of a way to escape. I doubt she'd be receptive to me simply asking. I'd used up what goodwill I'd earned in the past week, or two. And I couldn't stop fiddling with my handkerchiefs. My hands wouldn't stop moving. Anxiety riddled every muscle in my body. It would be different if I had something in my hands to actually do, but I felt helpless to the feeling. 

"Elanora." To my horror, it was my mother that called out her name. Ella looked mildly surprised as my mother walked up to her. A silent question as she glanced from me to her. 

"Good morning, Ma'am." While I always harbored a level of resentment towards my mother for not helping Ella, it wasn't a sentiment that my friend shared. She'd always been as sweet as honey with her. If I was in Ella's position, I don't think I'd have found such generosity in my heart. 

"Good morning." My mother said pleasantly. "Please stop distracting Esther."