But I always felt like sixteen would be my time. Or an early-late bloomer, given that witches tend to get their periods later. At fourteen and fifteen, I was disappointed when nothing happened, but not everyone can be an early bloomer. I don’t know if non-magic girls get excited about puberty, but it’s a big deal in the witch community. It’s a special dinner to celebrate your Bleeding, after all.”

We want to eat, but Granny won’t let us touch anything until you come down. “I checked on your food, as you bossily messaged me to, an hour ago. I should be enjoying this time, not spending it dreading what comes next. It is a lot of boobs and butt, but at least she’s proud of it?Įvery minute I spend here is another I don’t have to pass downstairs. She makes living outside the downtown core look glamorous, and I find her open sexuality kind of rebel feminist. For what? So some stranger can give her a five-star rating?” Taking those pictures with her ass stuck out like she’s some sort of NuMoney tagalong. “Keisha is annoying and obsessed with her feed and dating. I figure this is a way for my cousin to differentiate herself even more from her sister, who she’s clashed with since birth on account of their shared name. Keis, as she insists on being called, is pronounced “KAY-ss,” like something you put glasses into instead of the more natural “KEY-shh,” which also sounds like a delicious egg-and-spinach tart.

To fry Granny’s battery, Auntie Maise gave the name to both her twin girls. Granny used to say that Keishas were bad. Even a year after Keis got her mind-reading gift, I still sometimes forget that she has it. “Don’t call me Keisha, even in your head,” she says, casually reading the thought off the top of my mind.

Blood Like Magic by Liselle Sambury