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This morning, Mom burst into tears when she couldn’t get her car started. I’m really worried about her. All she ever does is work and worry about me. I knocked on Hildy’s door, and she came with a green potion hidden behind her back. Just as Mom was pulling out her phone to call AAA, Hildy poured the potion into the engine and the car started. Mom sighed with relief and invited Hildy for dinner. Then she whispered in my ear, “There’s something very strange about that woman.” I just smiled.

Ben and I celebrated our three-month anniversary last night at Ye Old Ice Cream Shoppe. We sat next to each other in a booth and ordered the Shoppe special, a three-scoop sundae with fudge, whipped cream, and four cherries. After a few spoonfuls, Ben lowered his head, put his spoon down, and whispered that he had something to tell me. He scooted right next to me and confessed that the night I asked him out, he was feeling so hopeless that he had been thinking of killing himself. Tears burned my eyes as a lump the size of a bowling ball formed in my throat. I put my arms around him and impulsively blurted out that I loved him. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never said that to any boy before. I began to panic, terrified I’d made a stupid mistake. Suppose he didn’t love me. But then Ben started crying and said he loved me too. He never thought he could be happy again. We spent the next few hours eating ice cream, holding hands, and talking. He swore he would get help if he ever had those bad thoughts again. When I got home, I changed into pajamas, took off my necklace, and realized three quarters of the liquid had evaporated. Hildy was right. My world was straightening out. When I told Hildy I saved a life, she said, “Great. Now go save another one.”

Mom and I talked it over, and we agreed I’m ready to start college again. Just a couple of classes to begin with. I’ve decided to study entomology. Just kidding! I want to become a psychologist who specializes in PTSD and survivor’s guilt. I plan on earning a PhD. Imagine that. One day, I’ll be Dr. Grace Ann Lawrence. I might even write a book.

It’s been four months since my last panic attack, and almost nine months since this whole nightmare began. College is going well, and so is my relationship with Ben. Actually, his dad is in rehab, so Ben is staying with me and Mom for a few months. The warden makes sure we sleep in separate rooms. I continue to go to Hildy’s house every day. It’s a routine I still need, and Hildy has begun teaching me some of her secret spells. I think Mom is a little jealous, but I enjoy being with Hildy. I’ve even grown to like the company of Stanley Rostakowski.

It’s been about a year now since the tragic event, and though I feel almost normal again, my necklace still has some of the blue liquid in it. I asked Hildy why she couldn’t just zap it and make me completely better, but she said she can’t undo what happened. It will always be a part of me. That I will do great things with my life, but I’ll always be vulnerable and will have to work hard to keep myself mentally healthy. She also said the necklace played no part in my healing. That it was all me. That I should be proud of myself. I am.

I must be the unluckiest person in the world. My mom has cancer. For weeks, I had been begging her to go to the doctor to check out her cough, and when she finally did, she was diagnosed with lung cancer. After she told me, I felt like a bomb had exploded in my brain. I ran straight to Hildy’s and pounded on her door, screaming her name. As soon as I saw her, I fell into her arms, crying hysterically. She immediately glanced at my necklace and noticed the crystal was full of blue liquid again. She knew it was bad. I told her what happened and begged her to save my mom. To do whatever it took. Hildy remained calm, put her hands on my shoulders, and said, “Gracie, of course I’ll help you. Just give me twenty-four hours to take care of a few things first.” I went home shaking and panicking, with adrenaline raging through my veins. I spent the afternoon practicing deep breathing like my therapist taught me, but it was only because of Hildy’s promise that I was able to calm down enough to cook dinner for me and Mom. Afterward, we held hands on the couch and watched a movie. Neither one of us could concentrate

I paced back and forth all day until Hildy arrived. When I heard the doorbell, I flung the door open, grabbed her wrist, and practically dragged her into Mom’s bedroom. Mom yelled at me for being so rude and thanked Hildy for coming. They chatted for a few minutes, and then suddenly Hildy pulled a sharp knife out of her purse. Mom’s eyes opened wide in shock and she began shaking all over. I went to her, kissed her cheek, and asked her to trust Hildy and do whatever she said. My breath caught in my throat as I watched Hildy take the knife to Mom’s hands and make small cuts to her palms and each of her fingers. Then she wiped off the knife and did the same to herself. She took Mom’s hands into hers, and as their blood flowed together, Hildy began one of her incantations. Her eyes were closed, and her body swayed back and forth, and suddenly they switched. Now Mom was the one chanting. Mom was the one swaying. It was the weirdest thing I had ever seen. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. When it was all over, Hildy lay down on the bed next to Mom and said she needed to rest. As I bent down to thank her, I stared in shock as her raven-black hair began slowly turning white and her skin became wrinkled and translucent. I screamed, “Hildy, what’s happening?” She smiled at me and told me she gave my mother thirty more healthy years. That she took it from her own life. I started shrieking, “No! You can’t do this.” I begged her to regenerate. She smiled her last smile and told me that she was a witch, not Doctor Who, and that she was happy to do this for us. She said she was already a hundred and twenty years old and that was enough life for anyone. Then her body combusted, and the little that remained flew up into the air like burning embers. She was gone.

Thank you for being such a good friend. It’s been a year since Hildy’s death, and I miss her like crazy. Soon after her passing, her lawyer called and said that while she left her house and most of her belongings to her great-grandchildren, she willed the business and her potions to me. She also left Stanley to me but first put a spell on him so he can’t talk anymore. He likes to sit on Mom’s lap. It’s a little creepy. For now, I’m working toward my master’s degree, and Mom runs the jewelry business from our home. I help her out in my spare time. She loves the work. She still doesn’t understand what happened, but it’s wonderful to see her happy again. I noticed she does the incantations perfectly, and her jewelry brings people good luck, just like Hildy’s did. I think Hildy might have transferred a little witch into her when they mixed blood. Ben is doing very well too. He’s in school studying to become a psychologist, and he’s the new facilitator of support group. I’m so proud of him. Oh, and we got engaged on my twenty-first birthday! Don’t worry, we won’t get married until we both graduate. Meanwhile, I changed my middle name to Hildegard in honor of Hildy and her selfless sacrifice. It’s the least I could do. As I get on with my life, I’ll always cherish my year with the witch, the best/worst year of my life.