The Witch's Doll ⚢

Chapter 37

Isla's internal clock told her it was nine in the morning. She was still spooked about the existence of witches and witchcraft and the main reason was mainly her stubbornness to believe in such fairytales. Answers weren't retrieved much but more questions started to form especially when Monica had to remove some forgetfulness spell that was eating her brain alive.

After the successful counter curse, Isla had to sleep. Monica's lullaby spell worked. It embarrassed her to admit that she had slept well for months.

Monica left after that, but so far, she gathered that magic wasn't all that bad.

Now when she received another visitor, she thought it would be Monica again, or Claudia to continue where they left off so they can spill everything about witchcraft, but found herself mistaken. The visitor had the ID of a guest clipped on her blouse. Isla knew for a fact that the French professor was no witch.

"I thought the Mets called for a hired psychiatrist to try profiling me," Isla said as Professor Marie otherwise known as Halea Halcyon by her close peers came into view. "But I guess I was wrong... I am afraid I am losing my grasp on reality."

Professor Marie acted like the statement didn't faze her as she sat down on the chair in front of Isla's glass prison. "The reality if this situation is Soleil Rockwell misusing the power of her office. She's desperate, and breaking the law."

"Whatever do you mean?"

Professor Marie blinked, once, before donning her neutral expression, questioning. "Do you know what an imago is, Isla?"

"A psychoanalysis term."

"Correct," she pursed her lips in a small grin. "An imago is an image of a loved one, buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives. It is ideal. I have a concept of you, just as you have a concept of me and I'm here to see how much I've gotten right."

Isla grabbed the chair next to her table and positioned herself to face the older woman. "You appear to know more about me than you let on."

"Oh trust me, Isla. Although you figured out my real identity, I still possess more information about you than you ever know yourself or your mother."

"I think I possess both the interpersonal and intrapersonal intelligence as I practice them quite often, thank you very much."

"That's not what I meant, girl." Professor Marie said, crossing her legs. "I'm merely stating that you don't know your mother."

"What?" she staggered. "Of course I do. When I was young, my mother would tell me stories about her childhood and I would watch her as she practices medicine and study biology."

"Your mother is dead, Isla." The Professor from Fortuna said coldly. It gave Isla the impression that the more she spent time with her, the more she seemed to be a stranger. "A girl's illusions are no basis for a woman's life." She continued. "There are years of her life where she doesn't have you yet and sides of her she never showed you. You don't know her as much as you thought you do."

"And you do?"

"I was 16 when I first knew her. So I don't know that much."

Isla firmly planted her feet onto the floor and placed her palms on her lap as she leaned forward. One of the recent secrets she learned from her mother was that Candace Cecil healed the wounded Human Regurgitator. It suddenly frightened her to think that there could be more secrets that can tarnish the Cecil name.

"If you are trying to tell me something, I suggest you do it before your visitation rights end."

"It's uncanny." Professor Marie said, eyebrow shot to her hairline. "The more I look at you, I see your mother. I see her voice, her posture, even her mannerisms."