Poisoned Roots

Astrid

“What in the world are you talking about, you foul-mouthed hussy?” Greta’s hands are on her hips as she lifts onto her tiptoes to try to look me in the eye. I’m petite, but she’s even shorter than me.

I knew the moment I walked into this garden that there was wolfsbane growing here. I thought I smelled it in the so-called solution, but I definitely smelled it when I walked outside. Now that