At the back of the shop, behind a wide wooden counter, a Black woman with dark braids falling to her waist was applying a cream to an elderly woman’s palm, calmly explaining how to use it.
"Just apply a handful before sleep and you’ll have revealing dreams. The answer you’re looking for will appear tonight."
The customer thanked her and left with a bag in hand and a satisfied expression.
That was when Lyn turned to me.
"Nadia Dyer," the witch sang, stepping around the counter and walking toward me. The puffed sleeves of her tulle blouse swayed with each step. "You’re far from home, girl."
I raised the card she had given me.
"I heard there’s a witch teacher around here."
Lyn smiled broadly.
"A Dyer witch will always be welcome in my shop." Her gaze drifted to a point behind me. "Is
