The Witches

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Cora kept the conversation she'd overheard between Nola and Sofie to herself all week, not wanting to drive a wedge between Eva and the other girls on the student council

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Cora kept the conversation she'd overheard between Nola and Sofie to herself all week, not wanting to drive a wedge between Eva and the other girls on the student council. After all, it had been her fault. She'd done the spell on Nola.

She did, however, tell Eva about meeting Beau's little brother. To which Eva replied, with a giggle, "He must think the world of you."

That thought comforted her as she sat in a corner seat on the bus on her way home on Friday. In the fogginess of the window, she wrote his name, putting a heart around it. She wasn't love sick yet, but she had fallen in like with Beau, breaking her last rule. She wondered what he'd say about the conversation she'd heard between Nola and Sofie. She wouldn't tell him, but of course she wondered.

At her stop, she hopped off the bus and took her time walking home. That evening the Emersons would play hostesses to the Grays. Cora didn't doubt that her grandmother and mother were in the kitchen right now preparing. There would be bowls soaring all over the room, filled with batter for the cake and every other ingredient her grandmother could think of that wasn't meat. By the time she got home, she'd thought up several ways to ruin Tilda's life, all of them unusable.

Tilda and Nola sure do have a lot in common.

"I'm home," she said as she always did. She poked her head into the kitchen. As she'd suspected her mother and grandmother were in the middle of supervising the cooking. As bowls mixed themselves, they flipped trough Agatha's cookbooks, pointing out new recipes they could try all in the name of impressing Blythe and Tilda Gray. "I'm home," Cora said again.

Over the ruckus, they didn't hear her, so she took herself upstairs to Willow's room instead.

Willow opened before she could knock. "Great, it's you," she said. She stepped aside to let Cora into her room.

Cora came in and sat on her bed. Willow sat beside her. "I can't believe Mom is making us have dinner with them," she said, putting emphasis on the word "them." I have a theory that they're actually ogres in disguise."

When she said that, Cora thought of Tilda's hideous corned toes and shuddered. "You know we don't have to play nice," she said. She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers.

Willow raised an eyebrow. "Hmm," she said. "Tell me more, sis."

When did she learn how to do that?

"I don't actually have a spell in mind," said Cora.

Willow huffed and fell backwards on her back. "How about we turn her into an actual ogre," she said. "I think she'll look great in green." She cackled.

"You're obsessed with ogres aren't you? And I think Mom would notice a giant ogre stomping around our house." Cora dropped her bag from her shoulder to the floor.

"Then come up with something then." Willow sat up. "Weren't you guys friends once? There must be something we can use against her floating around in that brain of yours."

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