Lila knelt on the cold stone floor of her grandmother's basement. The air was filled with the smell of burning sage and melting candle wax. She had spent her last dollar on the ancient grimoire from the antique shop downtown. The old woman at the counter had warned her not to open it. She had said the book was cursed.
Lila did not care. She was desperate. Her family was going to lose their farm. The bank was coming tomorrow morning to take everything. Her parents had worked that land for thirty years. She could not just sit back and watch it all disappear. This ritual was her only chance.
She had memorized every symbol in the book. She had drawn the circle on the floor using her own blood from a cut on her palm. The blood was still sticky on her fingers.
She arranged the black candles
