And then, the entire wall came away, swinging open as if it were on hinges, like the front of a doll house. Behind the wall was a small storage area with metal shelves. Hundreds of old-fashioned glass bottles lined the shelves, filled with an assortment of colorful substances.

The woman turned to look at me, her expression triumphant.

“Celeste showed me the trick of opening the apothecary once when she was busy with normal customers. I was kind of surprised that she trusted me, but…”

I ignored her, my eyes bulging as I stared into the small space at the bottles.

“What the hell is all this stuff?”

I sounded shrill and unnatural. I realized I was on the border of panicking.

“Did Celeste ever tell you about her side hustle?”

I looked over at the woman, my mouth hanging open.

“No! I told you, she didn’t tell me anything! I haven’t seen her since I was four years old!”

Stepping into the room, I looked around at the bottles. Most of them were filled with powders in all different colors, but some of the bottles had liquids or even solid chunks in them. Though the bottles were all different sizes, I noticed that they’d been labeled and lined up neatly in rows.

To my dismay, the bottles were labeled with names like Owl Feathers, Lizard Tongue, Bat Ears, and Monkey Tail.

I turned to the woman, my mind scattered, my heart pounding.

“Are these drugs or something? Was my grandmother a drug dealer?”

That had to be what was going on. It all fit. The woman’s desperate need for “chameleon,” the fact that she was willing to ignore my requests that she leave, it all made sense. I’d inherited money and property from a drug dealer.

Despite my horror, the woman laughed.

“No, Celeste didn’t deal drugs. I promise you.”

Fuming, I clenched my hands into fists.

“Oh really? Then what other explanation is there?”

I folded my arms and glared at her.

“Unless drugs these days are called Shark Tooth, Willow Bark or Henbane, your grandma was not a drug dealer. These are ingredients that are important to our kind. Why didn’t your family explain these things to you?”

My face grew red with rage.

“Don’t…talk about my family,” I snarled through clenched teeth.

“But surely someone…did your mom…”

“I said don’t talk about them! Especially not her!”

The woman’s expression softened instantly into sympathy and pity as a tear slipped down my cheek.

“I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me. I forgot that Rebecca…”

I stared at her, wide-eyed.

“You knew my mother?”

“No, not personally. I heard about her here and there, but I knew that she was a kind person. I’m not that much older than you, after all, so I was only about eight or nine years old when she….”

A stunned silence stretched between us. This woman, no matter how indirectly, had known about my mother. My overwhelming desire to know more overcame even my anger and fear. I looked at her, struggling to get control of my emotions.

“I don’t think you’ve even told me your name. Who are you?”

She chewed her lip, avoiding eye contact.

“I’m…Theresa.”

I frowned.

“Just Theresa?”

Her gaze locked directly onto me.

“Yes. Just Theresa.”

It was odd, but I let it go as I had more pressing things on my mind.

“How did you know my mother was kind?”

Theresa let out a long sigh.

“It’s part of a very complicated story, and I’m not sure if I should be the one to tell it.”

I shrugged.

“I don’t really know anyone in town very well. It would help to have any more information about anything, really.”

An odd flash of some unidentifiable emotion suddenly passed over Theresa’s features, but she covered it up quickly. I regarded her curiously. It was the second time now that she’d quickly covered an involuntary facial expression. What secrets was she hiding?

“Tell you what, why don’t we meet up for lunch tomorrow? There’s a great diner in town called Deena’s. Will you meet me there at noon? We can talk more then.”

I shrugged, not really knowing what to think. Just minutes ago, I’d thought this woman was crazy and on drugs. But that sympathy in her eyes, putting aside her needs when she saw how upset I was at the mention of my mom…it had all brought my guard down a few notches. With a sigh, I shrugged.

“Sure.”

Theresa smiled, a real one this time, one that lit up her eyes and made them sparkle.

“You’ll like Deena’s. If you like fries, they make really good ones. Ooh, and good shakes, too.”

I nodded mutely, still not trusting myself to speak. It would be good to get to know Theresa better. She at least knew something about my family, and that was far better than nothing.