Olivia's POV
I appeared in the old witch's hut—the same woman who once helped me cast the spell that brought my mother out of her coma. The air inside was thick with smoke and the scent of herbs, just as I remembered. Luckily, she was there.
She sat cross-legged on the cold floor, her gray hair falling loosely over her shoulders, her eyes closed as she murmured an incantation under her breath. She must have sensed my presence, but she didn't lift her head right away. Her fingers kept tracing glowing symbols across the dusty floor, her voice steady and deep, whispering in the ancient tongue.
I stood there for a moment, trying to catch my breath. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, almost a whisper. "I was wondering how long it would take you to come."
I swallowed, my throat tight. "You knew I'd come?"
The old witch gave a faint smile without looking up. "A woman whose bond has been ripped apart never stays still for long."
