Growing up, she was just my Granny Molly. She made a great chocolate cake, and never spoke. They told me she was a mute.
Then, after my parents died, my grandparents long gone, in their estates, there were letters.
Granny Molly was a witch, they claimed. She'd lived for centuries, but fell in love with Granddad and given up that life of living in the woods of Europe to be with him, and she remained silent so her enemies couldn't find her.
All I could think about was why she always made me cake, and how her oven was huge.
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