A Witch's Confession

24

Concerned pedestrians bled by in a blur. I rose to my feet, not minding the amount of grass and mud stuck to my clothes and made a direct line for the dining hall. I didn't mind the incessant whispers and comments that were said as I stomped towards the stained glass windows of the dining hall building.

The door slammed against the white-painted brick wall, causing a lull amongst the crowd chowing down on dinner. A group of children playing outside skipped inside and scattered towards their families. The clan soon grew rambunctious again, carrying on as if a mud-covered witch wasn't standing in utter shock in the doorway.

I scanned the crowd and spotted most of my family eating the enticing meal the Clan prepared. Mashed potatoes smothered in a brown gravy, with pieces of delectable grilled chicken on the side with a hearty green salad and a dressing that resembled poppy seeds and strawberries sprinkled on top. My mouth watered at the sight, and my stomach growled when the savory scents hit my nostrils. And don't even get me started on the dessert table... why these werewolves were such good cooks—and that included Kessem—was beyond me.

I waved in response to my father's concerned cocked head, and sauntered towards the line of cooks who passed side-eyed glances to each other as I approached. I knew they recognized me, though they often pretended they didn't. I frequented the kitchen often to pick up the soup they always had ready for Kessem. He would sip on liquids, but his dreamlike state kept him from chewing.

The clan healer wouldn't let me help much otherwise, despite my persistent daily requests to assist. She'd let me feed him and that was it. I wondered if she thought I wasn't educated enough in the healing arts to help, despite my constant explanation of my nursing degree and practical nursing certifications. But I soon realized it wasn't because she felt I was under qualified, but she didn't trust my intentions. I couldn't blame her. I'd be suspicious of a witch who suddenly showed up in my clan, too.

"Hello, Helena, Drake, River, and Ezra. Is Selma out sick today?" The familiar dining staff stood behind the glass, minus one. I received cold shoulders, three to be exact. River finally let out a mild peep.

"Selma's on vacation visiting her family. She left this morning after dinner prep." The young wolf stared at the ground as the others shot him daggers.

"Oh, good. She deserves a break. I hope she will be able to use the bath soak I left for her yesterday evening. Tell her to soak for at least thirty minutes." I beamed a hopeful smile. Selma walked with a limp, and I overheard her explain one night how she often battled arthritis from an old injury. I rushed back to Alex's house that night and crafted Selma up a soak my grandmother always used on her arthritic ailments. I felt indebted to this clan for all they've done to help Kessem, and for letting me stay here with him. It was the least I could do.

River swept at invisible dust on the ground and averted my gaze. The three adults pretended like I was invisible. I bit my lip at the tension growing between myself and the werewolves.

"Thank you very much for the soup, and this amazing meal. I truly appreciate all you've done for Kessem and my family." It rolled so easily off my tongue, though it took me a lot of courage to tell them so in the beginning. They scared the hell out of me, and I first wanted to take the soup and run. But now I was very comfortable with thanking them all personally every time I arrived to get the meals. Their silence was always like a swift kick to my side. The breath escaped my gut, and I forced a smile across my face and took my plate to my seat.

"We owe no gratitude to that leech," muttered Helena to the group, most likely assuming I was out of earshot. But I heard every word and snicker. It felt like a knife to my back, but I shook it off.

"What happened to you?" My mother dusted off a small portion of the mud from my raincoat. I heaved out a sigh and peeled the muddy layer off to hang on a deserted chair. Her blue eyes twinged with concern, knowing she was the one who suggested I seek Tyrion out in the garden.