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Outside a wooden cabin in Aberdeen, a blonde girl stood at the doorway. The wind was strong; the empty basket in her hands was blown so hard that it swung wildly.
A head struggled to poke out through the window opening. The younger girl frowned, her expression full of worry, her blonde hair—the same colour with the other one—fluttering in the wind.
“What’s wrong, Maureen?”
Maureen lifted the basket in her hand and gave it a shake.“Came back empty-handed again today, Sandra.”
“Still couldn’t gather any herbs? It’s alright, Mum won’t scold you.”
“But Dad will.”
“Then it’s my turn to help.”Sandra’s brow relaxed a little.“You’ve got to get used to asking your sister for help.”
Maureen rubbed her nose and muttered a few indistinct words.“Sorry…trouble again.”
“‘Trouble’? Don’t be daft.”There was a note of irritation in Sandra’s voice.“Get inside, aye. Don’t stand out there in the wind.”
Sandra climbed down from the stool she’d been standing on. Maureen saw her head disappear from the window opening. A moment later, the door in front of her opened, and the shorter girl reached out, gently pulling her inside.
1
“Watch closely,”Sandra said, lowering her head toward Maureen, who was kneeling beside the basket.
No matter how many times she saw it, Maureen was still mesmerised.
Sandra took a small piece of leaf from the herbs she had gathered earlier and placed it in her palm. She sat down cross-legged beside Maureen, clasped her hands together, and a faint white light began to glow through the gap between her palms.
Then, a thread of green squeezed out between her fingers. A sprout burst forth, growing at an astonishing speed—stretching, branching, unfurling leaves. Herbs fell continuously, rustling as they dropped into the bamboo basket, until it was filled exactly to the brim.
“Growth magic. It drains a fair bit of magic, and it’s no easy thing,”Sandra said, clapping her hands to signal the end of her little magic display.“But you’ll learn it someday.”
“That really is…impressive,”Maureen said.“You’ve always been the one with more magical talent.”
“Don’t say that.”Sandra suddenly cleared her throat, her tone turning serious.“Right. Now I really have to ask.”
Maureen looked up blankly.“What?”
“About how you keep coming back with no herbs.”
“Oh—sorry, Sandra—”
“That’s not what I mean!”Sandra frowned, clearly annoyed.“You’re not allowed to worry about troubling me. What I mean is—I’m worried there’s another reason you’re coming back empty-handed.”
“Uh…”
“Maureen, you’ve finally stopped putting on that‘big sister’act lately and started asking me for help. That makes me really happy. But I’m still worried—are you getting yourself into some kind of trouble?”
Maureen pinched the lace at her sleeve.
“Thought so,”Sandra said decisively.“Tell me.”
“I really don’t want to trouble you again…”
“Maureen!”
Sandra sprang to her feet. Maureen startled and straightened up.
Sandra’s brow was tightly knit, looking ready to blow up.“I swear, if you say that one more time, I’ll turn all these herbs into nothing—”
“Alright! Alright…”Maureen rubbed the bridge of her nose dejectedly and lowered her head again. She still didn’t seem to know how to say it, only eager to cut Sandra off.
Sandra spoke for her.“Is it that bully nearby—Alec?”
Maureen nodded uneasily.“He…well. He’s the one being lazy.”
“So that bastard can’t be arsed to gather herbs himself, blocks your way home, and steals what you’ve picked?”
Maureen nodded again.
“Why didn’t you use magic on him? Mum taught us defensive spells just a few days ago.”
“I’m not good at them yet. I was scared I’d mess it up, look suspicious, and draw witchfinders.”
“Then why didn’t you come to me?”
“Well…”Maureen unconsciously pressed her arm.“I guess I just…never really thought it was a problem that needed fixing.”
“You think problems are meant to be endured?”Sandra sounded a bit anxious now.
Maureen lowered her head and said nothing.
Sandra sighed, crouched down, and looked up at her.“This could’ve been explained in one sentence. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Uh…I thought it was obvious. I’ve already bothered you so many times—”
Before she could finish, Maureen got flicked hard on the forehead.
“Don’t say that.”Sandra was genuinely angry now.
2
Young generations—especially those not yet grown adults—sometimes receive this kind of treatment:adults discuss and judge them right in front of them, as if forgetting they’ve long since grown past babbling and can perfectly understand English.
When Dad came home and saw the bamboo basket filled to the brim with herbs, he sat down in satisfaction and began chatting idly with the family.
The adults soon turned the conversation to the children. Dad said that Sandra was always worried. In fact, aside from the women in the family, everyone in the village who knew Sandra thought the same. A teenager, tense like a bow pulled taut at all times—according to Dad, she“spent every day worrying about things.”
Maureen sat beside Sandra, and like every woman in the family, she didn’t echo back his opinion, only listened.
Sometimes Maureen wondered whether Dad truly knew Sandra at all. She knew that although Sandra’s constant frown gave the impression of timidity, she was actually brisk and hurried. She didn’t understand why Dad failed to see that. Perhaps adults—this typical sort of adult—understood children’s inner worlds about as well as people understood a cat’s.
“I’m just being cautious.”Sandra cut in loudly. She was clearly not the kind of child who would let adults talk over her.
“Sandra is reliable, aye, but still…it’s too much for her,”Maureen added.
Sandra shot Maureen a glare, then suddenly said, as if recalling something,“Mum, I want to gather tomorrow’s herbs for Maureen.”
Maureen froze and leaned over, whispering anxiously,“Are you planning to do something to Alec?”
“Would you rather I didn’t?”Sandra whispered back, her tone suddenly sly.
“Maureen, do you agree?”Mum asked.
“When has Maureen ever objected?”Dad laughed.“If you ask me, children don’t need too many opinions like Sandra’s.”
Maureen kept her eyes on Sandra. Sandra, a little sulky, turned her head away.“If you don’t want me to go, I won’t.”
“Then I’ll help with Sandra’s sewing tomorrow,”Maureen replied.
Sandra looked surprised. Her perpetually furrowed brows miraculously relaxed, and she smiled.
“No need to thank me, Maureen,”Sandra said smugly, in a voice only Maureen could hear.
3
Maureen stitched the torn spring dress. At least this time, she thought, she didn’t owe Sandra a favour.
She didn’t think she had the“big sister attitude”Sandra spoke of. She simply didn’t enjoy being a burden to anyone—especially Sandra. Wasn’t that normal? Being a burden shouldn’t be a way of expressing love.
Alright. But lately, Maureen had to remind herself of that.
She liked Sandra’s dynamic and decisive nature. She liked Sandra’s attention and occasional care. And when Sandra“solved problems”for her, the two came together perfectly.
Sandra, that little grown-up, was desperate to be reliable. Her constant worry was a kind of readiness—she watched, she worried, she paid attention, and the moment she noticed someone she loved needed her, she rushed in like a hunting cat. It was adorable. Maureen had to admit that being cared for and protected like that by her younger sister filled her with a dizzying happiness.
…So maybe she just enjoyed being helped by Sandra? That sounded less like being a burden, at least.
“Being a witch is brilliant, isn’t it?”
Sandra threw out the comment the moment she came in, snapping Maureen back to reality.
Maureen could guess that Sandra had likely already“dealt with”the bully using witchy means. But she knew Sandra was fishing for praise, so she asked knowingly,
“What happened, Sandra?”
“That bastard’s illness won’t be clearing up anytime soon,”Sandra said with genuine delight.“When I went to gather herbs today, he charged straight at me. I told him not to bully people—of course he didn’t listen. Bent over and started cursing me, calling me a shorty.”
“And then?”Maureen unconsciously tightened her grip on the fabric she was sewing.
“I pretended to be shocked, pointed at him and screamed, then focused my magic on my fingertips and cast the spell,”Sandra said proudly.“He felt his body break out in dense rashes, great red swollen warts oozing pus—by the end he looked like he was rotting!”
“And then he screamed and ran home.”
The air fell silent for a moment. Sandra blinked, belatedly realising her“revenge”might’ve been a bit much.
“Want me to be honest?”Maureen asked.
“Aye, go on,”Sandra replied. There was a note of anxiety in her voice, she sounded so casual that it felt like a bluff.
“It was pretty brutal,”Maureen said—but there was laughter in her voice.
Sandra didn’t quite understand her tone and wore a rare blank expression. Finding it adorable, Maureen reached out and ruffled Sandra’s hair.
“Thank you, Sandra. But I suppose that reminds me to never to piss you off, aye?”
Sandra finally relaxed. Pride returned to her eyes. She chuckled, hair still tousled.“Naw—it’s reminding everyone else never to piss you off.”
4
The house was filled with a celebratory mood all day—not only because of Sandra’s stirring act of“revenge,”but also because Dad was away at the market. The house was left to women—more precisely, witches.
Sandra hummed a tune as she waved her hand, and dust vanished instantly from the floor. Maureen poured magic into the fireplace so the fire would burn all night without adding wood. The unmanned loom worked on its own. Mum baked fermented dough into bread in an instant, and handed it out to the lively children. The afternoon passed easily and pleasantly.
In the evening, Maureen used some leftover magic to try brewing a potion in the cauldron. Usually Sandra would be off playing with her crystal ball, but today she slipped into food coma and lying on the long bench by the wall. Maureen hadn’t memorised the recipe well and kept asking what to add next. Sandra, half-asleep, was woken several times. Finally, she rolled up and got up to watch Maureen brew.
“I keep feeling like I’ve messed up the order,”Maureen said, slowly stirring the thick liquid with a long-handled spoon.
“No, I’ve used this recipe loads of times,”Sandra replied lazily.
“But it should’ve changed colour by now.”
“You’re stirring too slow—at least this fast—”Sandra grabbed Maureen’s forearm.
Maureen gasped sharply and instinctively yanked her arm free with great force. With a splash, the spoon fell into the pot.
The proto-potion bubbled and burbled within the cauldron.
Maureen froze, quickly avoiding Sandra’s eyes and tugging her sleeve down to her palm. Sandra knew that expression all too well—the don’t want to be a burden look.
“Is your wrist injured?”Sandra asked.
Maureen nodded.
“How did it happen? Was it that bully?”
Maureen paused, then shook her head. Since she couldn’t hide it anymore, she didn’t want to lie.
Sandra silently rolled up Maureen’s sleeve. Maureen stiffened but didn’t stop her. Bruises spread across her arm—herb-like green, old enough to have faded somewhat. Starting at the wrist, they spread upward, almost obscuring her original skin tone. Sandra stopped there. She couldn’t look any further.
“So…it was Dad, wasn’t it?”Sandra sniffed, her voice unsteady.
“You were already asleep that day. He was drunk, very irritable. And I’d run into Alec on the road, so I came home with an empty basket. After that, I knew it couldn’t go on, so I asked you for help.”
“What?”Sandra’s voice rose.“You didn’t come to me that time? I thought the moment Alec first bothered you, you came straight to me.”
“I…I didn’t think of it then,”Maureen whispered.
“Well, you shouldn’t have taken that beating. Even if it was already too late, you could’ve asked me to go with you—to face drunk Dad together. At least not all the punches would’ve landed on you—”
“How could I?”Maureen burst out.“Something that serious—I’d carry it myself. I’d never drag you into it, no matter what—”
She stopped abruptly. Sandra’s face had suddenly gone pale.
“Don’t say that.”
Sandra’s voice trembled uncontrollably, almost pleading. Maureen was so startled she couldn’t speak. She didn’t understand why Sandra was reacting so strongly.
“Sandra, there are things I really would rather face alone—”
“You can’t think like that, Maureen. Please.”
“Oh my god, Sandra—”
Mum appeared at some point without Maureen noticing. She held Sandra by the shoulders and turned her to face her. Sandra’s eyes were full of fear from nowhere, and Maureen stood frozen, at a loss.
“Maureen, could you go to bed first? I need to talk to Sandra alone, alright?”
Maureen nodded blankly but didn’t move. Sandra had her back to her now, head buried in Mum’s arms, her body beginning to tremble. Only when Mum gently patted Maureen’s shoulder did she mechanically walk toward the bed.
Maureen lay awake for a long time. Sandra didn’t come to bed before Maureen fell asleep. Everything had happened too suddenly. Before drifting off, Maureen could only think of how it all started—and felt she should have lied after all.
5
At dawn, Maureen was already sitting in the grass outside Aberdeen. She squinted as the wind whipped the blond strands on her forehead into wild spasms, blocking her vision.
She had woken far too early. When she opened her eyes, Sandra was still asleep—or perhaps had only just fallen asleep for a while. Maureen suddenly realised she was afraid to look at Sandra’s face. It reminded her of Sandra’s expression yesterday. She began to think it was her fault. So she hurriedly got up, dressed, and left—a reflexive escape.
Maureen lay down in the grass, curling herself up, hoping the grass was tall enough to bury her completely.
None of it was really necessary, she thought. She didn’t need to tell Sandra everything—it would only hurt her. Bruises heal. They were already nearly gone. Why expose them to light? To make someone you love cry? Maureen couldn’t see the point.
Honestly, she felt awful. She should have drawn a clear line between her own affairs and Sandra’s. It was fine—that would just be returning to how things used to be.
She lay there until nearly noon before getting up and heading home. When she pushed the door open, Sandra was sitting on a nearby chair, eyes swollen and red, already looking at her.
“Why weren’t you home this morning? I was scared.”
Maureen didn’t answer. She fiddled anxiously with the linen tablecloth, unnecessarily rearranged jars and bottles, acting busy. Sandra didn’t move, just watched her.
Maureen took a deep breath. By avoiding Sandra’s eyes the whole time, she finally gathered enough courage to speak.“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you suffer. And I don’t like troubling others after all—”
The sound of chair scraped against the floor. Sandra stood and stepped forward, closing the distance in an instant. Her brown eyes filled Maureen’s entire vision. Maureen was startled by her sudden reaction and instinctively stepped back.
“‘Others’? Are we really that distant? You call your own sister‘others’?”
Sandra was a head shorter than her sister, practically looking up at Maureen at this distance, yet the righteous force of her questioning made her seem like a giant.
“I mean—I don’t want to trouble anyone, especially my own sister—”
“I like being troubled by you,”Sandra cut in, then shook her head irritably.“No—that’s not it. I’m glad I can help you. But I don’t like you‘troubling’me, and that’s because I wish there were no awful things clinging to you, not because you damn well hide everything! You’re too good at hiding things, do you know that? No matter what horrible thing happens, you always wear that expression—yes, that exact expression you have right now. They say I’m overly anxious and paranoid, but that’s because no matter what happens, you always say it’s fine unless I force it out of you! Why don’t you say anything? Do you enjoy your own suffering? Do you know you’re going to kill yourself like this? Then let me tell you—”
Sandra suddenly stopped. Her eyes were already red. She bit her lip hard.
“—I don’t enjoy your pain at all. I hate your pain.”
After saying that, Sandra seemed to lose all strength and nearly collapsed.
Maureen rushed to support her, finally finding words to comfort.“Don’t be like that…Sandra. How could I get myself killed?”
“Oh my god!”
Sandra covered her face, almost screaming.
“Maureen, I can’t take this anymore. I really can’t.”
“Do you know what I saw in the crystal ball?”
6
“What’s going on, my girls?”
That evening, Mum opened the door to find both sisters standing there.
“Well, um,”Maureen said, arm around Sandra’s shoulders. Sandra looked exhausted, most of her weight leaning on Maureen.“Sandra saw an old version of me in the crystal ball, and I ran into a witchfinder by the lake—”
“Oh,”Mum said, understanding immediately.“So Sandra told you.”
“I’m sorry,”Sandra said.“Telling someone about their death is a very, very terrible thing.”
“Honestly, I don’t really mind,”Maureen said sincerely.
“Sandra, you’re only in your teens. Bearing something like that alone is already very hard and exhausting. And not everything seen in the crystal ball comes true. There are precedents for change.”Mum said gently, stroking her hair.
“Sandra has been seriously affected by what she saw in the crystal ball. She never should have had to bear this, seeing it at all was a pure accident,”Maureen said, patting Sandra’s shoulder.“She’s always so reliable—this time, I want to help her.”
“Mum, you know the forgetting spell, right?”Maureen asked.
Mum looked surprised, glancing between them.“Sandra agrees to this?”
Sandra nodded.“Yes. Maureen needs the spell too. She shouldn’t have to bear this either.”
Mum thought for a moment.“It’s not a spell, actually—it’s forgetting cake. Eat it and you forget specific things. I should have enough magic to make two. Sit here a bit, alright?”
Mum went to prepare it. The two girls sat on the bench. Sandra kept her head down. Maureen swung her legs absent-mindedly.
“You know, the images and sounds in the crystal ball aren’t very clear. When I first saw it, I didn’t dare believe it was you—you were already an old woman. But I recognized you instantly,”Sandra said.“You sent away the child who rowed over to save you, went off to die yourself, and even told the witchfinder you wanted him to do it. I don’t understand why you didn’t fight for even a sliver of survival.”
“I’m sorry,”Maureen said softly, inching closer.“That was too cruel to you.”
“Don’t apologise for something you haven’t done yet. And—let me share your pain. Ask me for help,”Sandra said slowly.“What hurt most was…I wasn’t even with you then. I saw myself at home, casual as ever, while you were walking to your death. You gave up every chance to run, as if you’d already decided you had no way out.”
Her voice grew quieter, until the last words were barely audible.“But you still had me.”
Maureen wasn’t good at handling Sandra’s emotional surges. She stayed silent, then simply squeezed Sandra’s hand. Sandra didn’t squeeze back.
After some time, Mum called them over and served the cake—very, very dry cake.
“The drier the cake, the more you forget the past. The moister, the more you glimpse the future—you’ll learn that later. I made it too dry, so you’ll probably forget today as well. After eating it, go to sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, it’ll all be gone.”
The cake was unbearably dry. Sandra nearly choked. Maureen laughed and patted her back, but Sandra didn’t even crack a smile .After finishing her portion silently, she stood up and went straight to bed.
Maureen lowered her head. Her own cake remained untouched.
“Don’t want to eat it?”
Maureen scratched her head.“I feel like it doesn’t matter whether I remember or not.”
“Sandra thought the same at first. She even thought it would remind her to fix your‘bad habits.’”
“I really don’t mind. I’m perfectly fine with the idea of dying.”
“That’s good. Too many people hold hostility toward witches. Accepting closeness and themselves may leave at any time is almost something witches must learn.”Mother’s voice was tinged with an odd calmness, without sorrow, only a faint nostalgia.
Hearing this, Maureen grew bolder.“To be honest…I don’t really want to forget.”
“You want to consciously avoid that ending?”
“Not exactly. Honestly…I’m satisfied with that ending,”Maureen said.“Right now I’m weaker than her, worse at magic, needing her protection sometimes. But Sandra said my last words were,‘You can’t kill my family the way you killed me.’Knowing that I can have that kind of resolve in the end—giving everything to protect her—that gives me peace.”
Maureen cautiously watched Mum’s expression. Mum didn’t seem disturbed, only nodded calmly.“It’s fine. Wanting to protect your family is normal.”
“Recently, she’s been paying attention to me because of my problems. At first I was happy, but now I just feel useless,”Maureen continued.“Right now I don’t have the ability to protect her. Maybe I should go back to how things were—set boundaries, not drag her into my trouble. That might count as doing my best to protect her now.”
Mum had understood Maureen’s words. She replied,“Maureen, anxiety is Sandra’s love language. Whomever she worries about is someone she cares for. Being an uninformed bystander makes her feel powerless. Your protection and concealment push her too far away—and also reject her love.”
Maureen froze.
“You’ve both done nothing wrong. Your love languages just don’t connect,”Mum continued.“She can’t understand why you keep your world separate from hers, refusing to let her take part in your life—and now she’s realized she might not even be able to retain your life. She’s hurt, and she’s terrified. She’s afraid you’ll leave her. She even worries that she might not matter that much to you. That’s what I sensed when I spoke with her alone.”
Maureen had never considered this. She didn’t know what to say.
“Oh dear, I forgot—the cake makes you forget today too. If you change your mind and want to have the cake, just treat this as idle chatter,”Mum smiled.“You’re still young. You have plenty of time to think and to be together. As for the cake, it’s up to you. I respect your choice.”
Maureen lowered her head, unconsciously pressing on the bruise on her arm.
7
Maureen tiptoed toward the bed. She could see that Sandra had already curled up there. She climbed onto the bed frame as quietly as possible. When she slipped under the covers, Sandra glanced back at her—clearly she hadn’t slept at all. Their eyes met briefly, then Maureen looked away.
Maureen lay flat. Sandra turned to face her. Her brows were still slightly furrowed, her gaze intense.
“Mum said today would be forgotten anyway, so I’ll just say it.”
Maureen blinked, then turned to face Sandra. Sandra seemed to draw courage from this. She took a deep breath and began:
“Maureen, you know, there’s almost nothing I’m afraid of. Witches are like that. Writhing centipedes, slimy salamander eyeballs, blood-dripping cow stomachs stuffed with herbs—I’m used to all of it.
“But there’s one thing I’ve been afraid of my entire life. I’m afraid of the time you lived before I was born.
“We’re sisters, yet we are so drastically different. I couldn’t understand why, so I kept looking for answers in that time. I kept asking, kept watching. Mum said you learned to walk slowly. Dad said you were a troublesome child before. Sometimes the crystal ball showed you as a toddler.
“Once, the babbling you on the other side of the crystal ball suddenly looked at me. I don’t know if it was because of our witch blood that you sensed something and were really looking at me, or if, within the crystal ball’s limited view, there was something else you cared about that I couldn’t see. Then it suddenly struck me that I’d never truly know what you were thinking. I could never get an answer. Standing in front of the crystal ball, I felt powerless. Even though you were the one who wasn’t real, I felt like I am the wandering ghost.
“Later I realized—yes, every day I talk to you, we live together, sleep on the same bed. I’m your sister. I know more magic than you. I can help you. I can interfere in everything. But you tell me nothing, as if that damn crystal ball is still between us.
“I’m afraid you’ll shatter like the crystal ball. So in the end, I can’t do anything to you. I can only reflect on myself, and eventually I always circle back to that time before I was born. What I’m really afraid of is that maybe that time was too long—long enough for you to grow used to life without a younger sister.”
After finishing, Sandra’s voice stopped abruptly. She steadied her breathing, then finally started to study Maureen’s expression. Maureen had listened quietly. Now she looked back just as quietly, giving no indication whether she didn’t want to respond—or didn’t know how.
Sandra frowned and sighed, then turned back to lie flat.“It’s fine. No matter what you answer, I won’t remember tomorrow anyway. You won’t remember what I said neither, right?”
Maureen gripped the blanket, said nothing, and closed her eyes.
Sandra fell silent too. After a long while, just as Maureen was drifting off, Sandra’s sleepless voice sounded again.“I’m really worried that when we’re in our sixties, two old women, you’ll still be like before—never answering me, never asking me for help, as if we weren’t sisters at all.”
Maureen's voice was muffled and drowsy, her question a murmur born of pure instinct.“Will we still be together at that time?”
Sandra froze. Then she chuckled, and immediately started crying. The sobbing startled Maureen. She rolled over to look. Sandra was wiping her tears over and over. At a loss, Maureen reached for her wrist. Sandra leaned straight into her, squeezing into her arms and hugging her tightly.
“I thought you didn’t care,”Sandra said, feeling Maureen’s arms wrap around her back. She smiled again through tears.“It’s okay. From how you looked in the crystal ball, we still have decades.”
“If you still can’t fix that habit after decades,”Sandra murmured,“then we’ll just use those decades to stay together properly.”