Cora and Willow had no idea where to search for Tilda first. It was probably the one time Cora wished they lived in a smaller house.
"We should start from the bottom and work our way up," Cora said, leading Willow out of her room. After all, mice did love food and where was a better place for a mouse than a kitchen? Cora and Willow tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to draw attention to themselves as they passed the living room where Agatha, Stella, and Blythe were having wine.
Cora waved her hand and said, "Hurry up," to Willow who'd stopped to check on the grownups.
Willow made a gesture that looked as if she was guzzling a drink. "They're drunk," she said, traipsing to Cora. Cora shoved her into the kitchen. "Hey," Willow said, but it was a whisper under the rattling of pots on the stove.
"We should check under the sink first," Cora said. She pulled open the door underneath the sink.
While she got onto her knees, Willow lifted the cover of a pot. "Yuck," she said. "I hate spinach."
Cora swatted her legs and hissed, "Get down here."
Willow did as she was told. "We need a flashlight you idiot," she said.
She was right. Cora couldn't see anything, so she snapped her fingers, and a small blue flame emitted from them. That was better. Underneath their sink was full of bottles of dish washing liquid, other cleaning supplies, and boxes of cereals yet to be opened. Cora shoved the soap aside with her free hand. Willow took out the boxes of cereal, and afterwards all they were left with was a mildewed odor but no Tilda.
"Maybe we should do mouse sounds," Willow said. "Squeak, squeak, squeak," she said, trying to imitate the noise Tilda had made.
Cora blew the flame from her fingers. "She is here. We have to keep looking." She helped Willow put everything back. They'd just finished, when their grandmother came into the kitchen. Cora nudged Willow's arm a little, silently telling her to stay quiet.
"I'm here to check on the cauliflower. What are you girls up to?" Agatha asked.
"Nothing," said Willow.
"Nothing," said Cora.
Agatha walked around them and grabbed the pair of mittens on the counter. She slipped them on and pulled the door open. While she checked on the Cauliflower, Cora gestured to her mouth.
What she meant by this was keep your lips sealed, but Willow mistook it. "We came down here to get Tilda a glass of water," she said.
"Oh," said Agatha, closing the oven door. She pulled off the mittens and tossed them onto the counter. "I didn't even get a chance to say hello to her. I should go up."
"No," Cora and Willow said at the same time.
"She's in the bathroom," said Willow. "She said she had a stomachache."
YOU ARE READING
A Magical MisfortuneParanormal
Cora Emerson is a magical misfortune who just can't get the hang of being a wicked sorceress. Being wicked would be easy if she couldn't help being good instead. But her eighteenth birthday is fast approaching, and if she can't ruin one person's lif...