The Coven Comes Calling

Three women arrived at Thorn House before lunch, uninvited, carrying a cake. Margot had been raised to distrust an uninvited cake. They introduced themselves as friends of Cordelia, which Margot already doubted, because they said the word friends the way you say the name of an ex. They admired the hallway. They did not, she noticed, step past the kitchen toward the garden. They kept well clear of the kitchen, in fact, the way you keep clear of a dog you have history with. "We wondered," said the eldest, setting the cake down, "whether you'd be keeping the place. A young woman, a career in the city. It must feel like such a burden." "We could take the garden off your hands," said the youngest, too quickly, and the eldest gave her a look that could have curdled milk. Margot smiled her insurance smile, the one that gave nothing away, and put the kettle on.