One of the witches sent this to a girl the next day the girl fell down the stairs and broke her neck in school. The new witch eventually learned how this happened. She had done it with her newfound powers
I never liked reading before I met you. Hated the stillness of it. How aware I became of the popping of the pulse in my wrist, and the stretch and squish of time. Hated how alive I felt, how willingly I became the protagonist in my own story. Until you were there, with your tea and your kindness. And I no longer took centre stage.