Escort For The Witch. Veronika Grossman

hands and let’s get to the table,” Mom sang, turning me around and nudging me towards the bathroom as if I were a four-year-old.

      I nestled in my favorite spot at the table, and Abby settled next to me, resting her big head on my knee.

      “Let’s begin, shall we?” Dad said briskly, casting another glance at me. “I flew to London.”

      “I figured that out already,” I replied, scooping a hefty portion of mashed potato onto my plate. “Just haven’t figured out why yet.”

      “Carlos Wallace asked me to come,” Dad said.

      If Carlos Wallace himself had asked my dad to fly to London, then it must have been serious.

      “He found out that Marie is looking for her granddaughter and even sent Wallace a letter asking him to ‘bring the girl back home.’ ”

      Mom and I exchanged astonished glance.

      “No!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “The audacity! Sabrina should decide for herself what to do. And I doubt her decision will be in Marie’s favor.

      Even though it could have consequences…”

      “Gabriel, please calm down,” Dad intervened. “I don’t think Sabrina is in any danger.”

      Mom cast a worried glance in my direction and reached for the salad. Naturally, this didn’t escape dad.

      “Now, is there something I don’t know?” he asked, staring at us both intently.

      I felt like my brain was about to explode.

      “Well?” he persisted.

      “Well, it’s like this, Dad, um… recently I noticed that Sabrina… has been having some health issues. And today, as I drove her home after she had felt unwell at university, she told me that… um… She said she’d been seeing a ghost.”

      “Oh…” was all mom could utter.

      “A ghost of…?” Dad asked, ignoring Mom’s outburst, now completely focused on me.

      “Michelle.”

      The parents’ eyes widened in surprise.

      “And she also hears Alex’s voice occasionally shouting at Michelle, and other voices, too, but she doesn’t understand what they’re saying. And when she tries to shut the vision of Michelle out, she does something to physically hurt her. I’ve seen her a couple of times writhing in pain, but I had no idea what was happening to her because she blames it all on expired yogurts, bread rolls, and other crap she eats,” I blurted out, then took a deep breath and dived back into the cooling dinner.