Nora Connolly

Fifteen

Nora Connolly

“Who is this woman again?” Nora asked.

“Glinda North,” Roman replied.

The two of them had taken his black Bugatti to a tall, green building called The Emerald. It was a community of witches, who had been in the states as far back as the 1600s. “Right. She’s a socialite or something?” she said.

Roman rolled his eyes. “She’s a socialite, yes, but she’s also one of the most powerful witches on the east coast. She’s been around for centuries.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Witches are immortal?”

“Not exactly. No, they just live long lives. Magic makes them heal faster and move quicker.”

Nora blinked. “Magics weird.”

“It goes by its own rules,” he said.

He got out, and he went around to open the door for her.

Nora looked up at him. “But…if I’m a witch, does that mean that I’ll live a life as long as hers?”

Roman took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Those would all be go