Rebecca Jones-Howe

Copyright © 2020 by Rebecca Jones-Howe

All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Elena and her son Parker stood in the quiet hum of the elevator. Parker carried his backpack over his shoulder and Elena clutched her new black package in her hands. The package held her largest SPELLBOUND bulk order yet, the order she reluctantly had to make in order to maintain her new Maiden rank for the next quarter.

“I’m excited,” she said. “I’m so excited, baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” Parker said.

“Oh, I know,” she said. She wanted to reach down, to tussle his hair, but the package was heavy and it weighed down her shoulders.

Finally, the elevator arrived at the 15th floor. She and Parker walked out down the hallway to the apartment.

“Get the key in mama’s purse,” Elena said at the door. Parker obliged, as this was the common after school routine. Elena rushed past him and into the apartment, setting the package down on the marble-topped kitchen counter. Parker plopped himself down on the couch.

“No TV, Parker,” she said. “You need to do your reading first, okay?”

“Okay, Mom.”

She cut some cucumber slices and tossed a handful of Goldfish crackers onto a divided plate and set it down on the coffee table.

“Mama’s going to do her video now, okay?”

“Okay, Mom.”

Elena pulled the book from his backpack, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He squirmed away and fisted a handful of the Goldfish crackers into his mouth.

“Okay,” she sighed, taking the package with her into the bedroom. She shut the door behind her.

A year ago, Elena replaced her old IKEA vanity table with an antique one from the 1940s. Her husband, Samuel, was unimpressed, stating that the aged piece looked ridiculous in the modern aesthetic of their apartment. Elena insisted that her business props wouldn’t venture any further from her corner of the bedroom.

She was wrong, of course.

Lillian, her upline, High Priestess to Elena’s Maiden, kept telling her to “live the life”. Elena had to buy a tripod and a ring light and a better phone with a better camera. She expanded her backdrop with an antique chair to match the table. She bought a candelabra and Victorian-style velvet curtains with tassel tie-backs to match the floor-to-ceiling window of the bedroom. Business investments.

She pinched her cheeks in front of the ornately-carved mirror.

Tell a story.

Invest in your magic.

Evoke emotion.

It was the SPELLBOUND way.

Settling onto the vanity stool in her fluted-sleeve black lace dress, Elena positioned the her new shipment in the camera’s frame before leaning in to stream live.

“Greetings, everyone!” She waved at the screen. “I am beyond thrilled to tell you that my latest order has finally arrived! My business is growing and this is my largest order yet!” Elena took the box and pressed it toward he camera so the SPELLBOUND logo featured prominently in the frame. “Ever since I got my car and my promotion, every order has been a blessing to receive.” She lifted the lid and glanced down at the black-boxed items inside. “Oh, goodness!”

“This is beyond overwhelming.” She lifted a package of SPELLBOUND’s Mystic Perfume in “Frozen Chateau” and held it before the camera. “This is what started things. This is what found me. This is what changed my life.” Tears brimmed. She wiped at them with the back of her finger, hoping to preserve her eyeliner. “It’s my signature scent now,” she said, spraying the nape of her neck. “It smells airy but carries notes of bergamot and lavender. It makes me think of warmth returning to an old palace.”

Again, she sprayed, this time on her wrist. She brought her wrist to her nose and sniffed.

“Honestly, it’s so silly, but it’s been one of my dreams to buy an abandoned chateau and just fix it up. With SPELLBOUND, that silly dream is becoming so close to reality. Dreams do come true if you work hard enough. They do. I’m proof.”

Elena dropped Parker off at school in the morning, once again in a black dress, black heels and wine red lipstick. She’d dressed this way ever since she’d been promoted from Initiate to Familiar, when Lillian told her that if she really wanted to tell a SPELLBOUND story, that she had to dress the SPELLBOUND part.

Another day meant another livestream, and she held her phone up while she walked off the school grounds, footsteps sounding her walk back to her black Mercedes with its attached emblems in three different areas.

SPELLBOUND on the rear.

SPELLBOUND on the passenger side.

SPELLBOUND on the driver’s side.

“Just dropped my son off and now I’m going to a meeting with one of my downline initiates, Jenna.” The camera jerked as she got into the car. “Jenna’s a mother I met at my son’s daycare back in the day. She saw my posts and wanted to know what SPELLBOUND was all about. I’ve been mentoring Jenna in her business and she has gone above and beyond in her journey. She’s proved herself to be a valued remember of my Coven and I can’t wait to see what the stars hold for her.”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Jenna said.

Elena scrambled to turn her video off. “What?”

“I can’t sell anything anymore. I’ve asked everyone I know.”

“You need to be persistent,” Elena said.

“My sister told me I was brainwashed.”

Elena gawked at the word, an energy taking shape in her chest. “What kind of a person says such a thing?”

Jenna bowed her head. “I’ve tried. I did everything you told me to.”

“Is this really the story you want to tell?”

“Please,” Jenna begged. “Just talk normal to me. Ever since you went Maiden, you talk just like the rest of them. You don’t even talk to me like we’re friends.”

Elena held her jaw shut, preventing the energy from taking possession of her words. She smiled just the way that Lillian had instructed her to do in times of confrontation. “SPELLBOUND is about stories, Jenna. We sell products about magic, about passion, about rising up from the ashes. Quitting is failing, and failure is a story that nobody wants to hear.”

“I’ve heard this so many times,” Jenna said. “I’ve persisted like you told me, but nobody wants to buy perfume that expensive.”

Elena held her position, trying not to waver. Without Jenna, she’d lose her status. She’d lose the car. She imagined her frozen chateau, weakening with time, ice splitting the cracks.

“Okay, look,” Elena said, digging into her briefcase for the SPELLBOUND Book of Dreams. She flipped it open to the page that featured the new Incantation Sample Pack. “We just released these roller ball perfumes. Remember these? You used to able to buy them individually when you first signed up, but they’re back for a limited time!”

“Elena, I can’t buy any more product.”

“Look,” Elena said, leaning over the table. “The packs are $75 each but they contain samples of our five best scents. Split them up into mini gift baskets like you used to and use them to run raffle on your Facebook page.”

Jenna glanced at the photo of the roller perfumes, each one a little bevelled glass vial that featured the signature SPELLBOUND filigree rose.

“Remember that time a customer wanted to buy the Hallowed Halls scent?” Elena asked. “It’s been sold out since Halloween, but it’s in this pack! Sell the tickets for ten dollars each or do five for $30.”

“I really can’t.”

“Put it on your credit card.”

“I put my last order on my card.”

This is an investment in your magic.

You’ll never feel power without struggle.

Think of what kind of story this moment will allow you to tell!

Elena pursed her lips, restraining herself. She wanted to tell Jenna to dress the SPELLBOUND part, to maintain allure, to prove that she wasn’t just another Vancouver mom in leggings.

If my story is this great, imagine what kind of story YOU’LL tell!

“I really don’t want to be hard on you,” Elena said. “I know it’s hard. I had a hard time and I still do. But what am I going to do without you to talk to? Next time I promise we’ll have coffee without business talk, okay?”

Finally, Jenna sighed. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Elena carried her charcuterie board up the front steps of Lillian’s house, using her elbow to ring the doorbell.

“You’re the last one to arrive,” Lillian said, ushering her into the living room, where all the appetizers were already laid out. The lights were low. The electric fireplace was on, its crackle drowning out the sound of the rain outside.

The other Maidens, Abigail, Melanie and Fiona, were already seated on the leather sofa, sipping on Malbec. Both Fiona and Melanie were mothers in their late 30’s but Abigail was younger, edgier, with red hair and eyeliner always so sharp, so perfect that even Lillian once asked her how to do it right.

Elena walked to the bar to fill her glass. The Malbec always felt so thick in her throat, so heavy, but she swallowed it down and rushed to take a seat.
Lillian’s heels sounded her footsteps into the sunken living room, click clack on the tiled steps.

“I wanted all you dears here today so we could discuss our Coven,” she said, taking a seat on her leather tufted wingback. “As you all know, Melanie recently lost her latest Initiate. On top of the two Initiates that Fiona lost last month, this is going to have a real impact on our sales.”

Melanie drew a breath and set her wine down. “I confess that I’ve struggled to keep my latest Initiates focused, Lillian. Most of them have issues with the cost of the product.”

Lillian straightened. “The cost of the product should not be an issue if you’re telling your story correctly.”

Melanie swallowed, drawing out her notebook to note the disapproval.

“Honestly, Abigail should not be the only Maiden holding my Coven together.” Lillian looked about the room, the fire behind her casting shadows over her sharp cheekbones. She leaned toward Elena, her expression ready to slice.

“Now, Elena, I’ve seen your recent livestreams. While I admire your commitment to telling your story within the confines of the SPELLBOUND aesthetic, I’ve noticed your sales slipping, specifically with your Initiate, Jenna. She hasn’t purchased anything this month.”

“I know,” Elena said. “I’ve spoken with her already and will be working with her to purchase some of the new SPELLBOUND products. I also have the intention of running a stall with that flea market they run on the East Side. I’ve already been stocking up on orders.”

“That’s wonderful, dear. Wonderful. But I’d still like to see you encourage more of your Initiates to build downlines for themselves. Jenna definitely should have shifted toward recruiting by now.”

“Of course,” Elena said. “I’ll do my damndest.”

Lillian’s red lips barely shifted. Her gaze shifted about the room, picking out weaknesses and flaws.

Elena took another sip from her wine, fighting to hold her posture straight.

Two weeks later, Elena stirred a homemade soup over the stove. Her phone vibrated with a new message: Nobody’s entered my raffle!

Elena scrolled through Jenna’s Facebook feed. Jenna had revamped her image. She’d done her makeup. She’d bought herself dress. It was ill-fitted, the black jersey fabric faded, but she looked more SPELLBOUND than she once did. She’d made her gift baskets, added a bottle of wine and a candle to each one, investments out of pocket.

This was her friend, trying, really trying.

Elena started to type a message of encouragement, but then her phone pinged in her grasp: I’m going to quit. I’m sorry but I can’t keep doing this. My husband’s upset. He’s tracked my spending this entire time and I’ve spent twice as much as I’ve made!

Elena erased her words, the possession taking her again, gripping tight over her heart, making it pound.

The phone’s vibrations rattled through her arms: Please don’t ask me to buy more inventory. I won’t even be able to get rid of what I have. Please don’t tell me to sell my “story” again. I’m so sick of hearing it. I’m sorry it has to come to this. I’m so sick of feeling like garbage because I couldn’t achieve the same results you did.

The phone slipped in Elena’s grasp.

Fuck!

She set the phone down to stir Parker’s soup instead. The diced potatoes, carrots and celery swirled among the chunks of pork.

“Mom, I’m hungry!” he cried.

On her mind was her Mercedes. She’d worked so hard finding enough Initiates for that Mercedes, worked so hard encouraging her downline to meet their sales targets. She needed those targets to maintain her Maiden rank.

Other Maidens had lost their cars before, slipped from Maiden to Sorceress and lost everything. Failure could happen, was destined to happen if Elena didn’t react to the fury that built up inside of her. She clung to the wooden spoon, stirring the soup as it simmered. Muscles twitched in her face, tugged at her lips, taking hold of her smile, tugging it down, down, down.

The apartment door opened and Samuel walked in. “What’s happened now?”

“Jenna’s quitting.” Her voice croaked, warbled. “I’m going to lose the car!”
Samuel glanced into the living room, where Parker sat watching television, chewing on his nails.

“Fuck the car,” he muttered.

“I earned it, Sam.”

“You didn’t earn it,” he said. “It was an optional perk that came with your fake promotion. You still had to lease it in your name. They only make the payments if you remain their loyal customer.”

Elena rolled her eyes.

“Let them repossess it and lease an affordable car.”

Elena breathed in deep. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Over and over.

Loss. Failure. Cracks.

Sam snatched the spoon from her shaking hand, turning the stove dial on low. “Get a hold of yourself, Elena.” He gave the soup one last stir before putting the lid back on.

Again, the phone vibrated on top of the marble counter.

“Elena, don’t—”

She picked it up.

Jenna’s final message read: Please don’t be mad.

“Elena, come on.”

She ran into the bedroom and locked the door. She heaved breaths. She filled her lungs, giving the demon more life. Its presence worked through her arms, through her fingers as she responded: Fine! Give up! I did my best to support you but all you did was complain. Let this be the end of your story. It won’t be the end of mine.

Then, with hesitation, she called Lillian.

“Give her a break, dear.” Lillian’s said. “If she hasn’t yet cancelled her membership, just order a few items under her name. She’ll maintain her sales quota and you’ll get the commission while also maintaining your rank.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Really, dear. It’s that simple.” Lillian’s voice soothed, calmed the tightness in her shoulders. Elena sloped back in her chair and stared out the window at the construction site below. Another high rise was in the process of construction. Soon it would obstruct her view of the city, but for now she had a view of the orange-clad labourer who climbed up the long ladder that led up to the crane.

“That’s not cheating?” Elena asked.

“A sale’s a sale,” Lillian said.

Picking up Parker from school, Elena tried not to make eye contact with Jenna, who had recently discovered Elena’s order and quit SPELLBOUND outright.

You’re a fucking liar, Elena! You’re a horrible person!

This was not the story that Elena was trying to tell.

“She’s a Puritan, dear. Don’t let a Puritan tell you you’ve done wrong,” Lillian had advised.

In her black Anna Sui dress, Elena guided Parker through the school grounds and back to the Mercedes. Parker did his homework while Elena drove about the city, delivering her orders. Upon returning home, the two found themselves confronted by the hoard of SPELLBOUND boxes in the mail room.

“Whoa!” Parker exclaimed. “Mom, that’s so much!”

Elena pulled out her phone to start a livestream. “Mama’s doing really well, baby. Isn’t it crazy?” She tried to capture the childlike awe and wonder in his face as he went to tug some of the smaller boxes out of the parcel locker. “We’re going to have to make a second trip, aren’t we, baby?”

“Uh huh,” he said.

The orders, of course, had been made under the names of Elena’s other Initiates. They hadn’t been posting their daily videos or their inspirational quotes, which meant that they probably hadn’t been paying much attention to their order statements either.

Elena flipped the camera around.

“My business has been thriving!” she said. “If you’d like to start yourself your story of freedom, please get in touch. You have no idea what kind of magic that SPELLBOUND will add to your life!”

When Elena and Parker attempted to carry the second batch of packages into the elevator, they were confronted by Samuel, briefcase in hand.

“Elena, what the fuck?” he asked.

“Dad, you swore!” Parker said.

Luckily, Elena’s Facebook posts lured her some interest in her private messages:

A young woman named Elle wrote: Hey, I saw your video and I’m interested!

Another woman named Ashley wrote: So what kind of business is this?

Elena eagerly copy and pasted her general response to such questions, informing her potential new Initiates about the $179 SPELLBOUND Initiation Pack, which contained 2 full-size bottles of perfume in “Moonlight Incantation” and “Celestial Bath”, a locket necklace for solid perfume and one sample package box of the solid perfumes in “Love Aura”, “Sage Bundle” and “Misty Woods”, plus a half-size candle in the scent “Parlour Games”.

She explained that they would start their business as Initiates and that with her guidance and support, they could work up the ranks, from Initiate for Familiar. If they initiated new members, they could continue to work up to Sorceress, Maiden, High Priestess and the ultimate rank, Circe.

Elle wrote: This is just one of those direct marketing things, right? I really don’t have time to peddle a bunch of crap online.

Ashley wrote: Oh, so this is a pyramid scheme? LOL hilarious! Hard pass.

Back at her vanity table, Elena pressed Record.

“I wanted to make this video to clear the air about what SPELLBOUND is and what SPELLBOUND stands for. SPELLBOUND is a company based on female empowerment and independence. SPELLBOUND is designed to allow women to grow and nurture themselves and their lives. I have shared my story time and time again. So if you really think that SPELLBOUND is a pyramid scheme, then I’m here to prove you wrong.”

She picked up her personal bottle of “Frozen Chateau” perfume.

“For starters, pyramid schemes are illegal and I would never attach my name to something so horrendous. I’ve been with SPELLBOUND for three years now, and I wouldn’t be here sharing my experience if it wasn’t blessing my life. I earn my own money. I earned myself a car. I worked hard up the ranks and achieved my Maiden status and am set to get my $10,000 bonus at the end of this year. SPELLBOUND also holds a yearly cruise that I’ll be making my way toward next summer. If SPELLBOUND were a pyramid scheme, I wouldn’t have anything to show for all my work.”

She leaned back in her seat, waving her arms at the curated scene behind her.

“Do I look like I’m failing! Does this look like a horror story to you!”

Parker coughed in his room and Elena turned on the humidifier, which sprayed heated mist in his face.

“I hate it, Mom.”

“I know, baby,” Elena said, pressing the back of her hand to his flushed face. “Have yourself a nap and Mama will have some chicken noodle soup waiting or you when you wake up, okay?”

“I’m not a fucking baby, Mom.”

Elena gawked, but the apartment buzzer rang and she allowed his choice of words to slide, shutting them behind the bedroom door so she could answer the call.

“It’s Abigail, dear. Can you let me in?

Elena hesitated. Reluctantly, she buzzed Abigail up and then pulled out a can of Campbells Chunky Soup. She’d planned on making the soup from scratch but she had so many orders to sort and store before Samuel got home.

Abigail knocked on the door.

“Take a seat at the table,” Elena said. “I’ll get you a drink.”

Abigail settled into a chair and smoothed out the skirt of her black velvet dress. Its neckline exposed the ridiculous slave collar she always wore. It was made of thick utility chain, the ends locked bound with heart-shaped padlock. The lock itself was etched with the word BABYDOLL.

Elena poured the customary glass of Malbec.

“Shame about the view,”Abigail said.

Elena glanced at the eyesore of the construction crane as she approached the table. “I don’t plan on living here forever.”

“I saw your last video,” Abigail said, taking the wine. “Lillian was unimpressed.”

Elena took a seat. She hadn’t poured herself a glass and had no desire to, staring at the red on Abigail’s smile.

“You came off maniacal, dear.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Elena asks.

“Because Melanie’s ditched the coven and I’d hate to see you head down that path.”

“What?”

“She lost another two Initiates yesterday, lost her Maiden rank. She did so well for so long.” Abigail took another sip and leaned in, the padlock dangling over the glass surface of the table. “I heard she was speaking ill of the Absinthe candles. She said they smelt of Mr. Clean.”

“But why would she leave?”

Abigail laughed. “She couldn’t cut it. She was negative. She preferred misery. The Puritanical life. Who wants that?”

Elena watched the crane outside, grey skies and rain slipping over its orange lustre. She imagined climbing the ladder, her limbs aching, fingers slipping.

“I won’t lie,” Elena said. “I’ve had a tough time with things as of late.”

Abigail shifted, fingering at the padlock around her neck. “You still want that chateau, don’t you?”

“Of course,” she said.

“I’d love an apartment like yours,” Abigail said. She tilted back the last of her wine. “Be honest, though. Can you really afford this on your SPELLBOUND income, or is it your husband who makes the money?”

Crying started in Parker’s bedroom. His door creaked open and both women glanced down the darkened hall as he emerged, snot and tears all over his face.

“Mom, I threw up,” he said.

It took time to clean up Parker’s mess, time to change his pyjamas, time to coax him back to sleep in the humid mist. Elena lugged all of the new orders into the storage closet. She attempted to fit it all in the corner delegated for SPELLBOUND inventory, but she had to move some of the soup cans aside for the new candles.

She still had one last box to sort when Samuel came in.

“I thought you said you weren’t buying more SPELLBOUND.”

“Some of it is empty boxes,” she said.

Samuel raised his brows.

“Lillian told me to keep all the empty boxes so it looks like I’m ordering more when I post the pictures.”

Sam shut the door behind him. “Elena, this is insane.”

“It’s not insane. It makes sense. Jenna already quit and my other Initiates aren’t buying enough. This is temporary until I can recruit more people.”

“How much did you spend this time?”

“I’ll recoup the loses, Sam. I swear. I just need new Initiates.”

“How much did you spend?”

Elena shelved the Absinthe candles, which, admittedly, did smell like Mr. Clean. Her husband loomed behind her. Breathing. Judging.

“You’re never going to tell me how much you’ve spent,” he said. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

The fury reached from inside and took possession of her limbs. She made room for more bottles of “Frozen Chateau” perfume, but in the process of doing so, she knocked some of the empty SPELLBOUND product boxes off the shelf. They landed in dull thuds, hollow and still. Samuel kicked one and Elena scrambled to retrieve it. The corner was dented. She turned back to look at him with tears in her eyes.

Silence lingered between them, but Samuel’s gaze softened the longer he looked.

Elena swallowed. ‘”Can I send you to work with a Book of Dreams? Maybe the women will want to buy some.”

Samuel breathed an exasperated laugh. “I’m not doing that, El.”

Elena swallowed, the possession curving her her throat. “You’re a Puritan,” she mumbled.

“A what?”

Samuel lingered before her, a bad omen blocking the door. Her chest heaved. Her fingers shook. Deeper in the apartment, Parker started crying again. This time, Elena didn’t go to tend to him.

Samuel did instead, leaving her alone in storage, giving her time to devote to her story.

She bought a new dress and did her eyeliner a bit thicker, applied a lipstick that was a little bit darker, but everyone at Parker’s school had already gotten used to Elena’s facade. She came with a vintage apothecary bag full of “Enchanted Forest” wax melt samples. Each one was wrapped in its own black box with twine and included one of Elena’s new matte black business cards. She shoved a sample into each mother’s passing arm. Even Jenna’s.

Jenna turned back with her mouth snarled and ugly, her hate focused and pure.

Puritan. Puritan!

“Get this shit out of my face,” Jenna said, tossing the sample back at Elena’s chest.

The other parents turned and gawked, but it was Jenna who swore, Jenna who made the scene, Jenna who everyone stared at.

Elena smiled but then Jenna turned to the masses and pointed. “She’s a part of that lousy SPELLBOUND MLM cult.”

Everyone glanced down at their samples. Their faces twisted and contorted. They held the samples differently, as though the contents were poisoned inside.

“Why are you crying, Mom?”

“It’s fine,” Elena said, leading her son out of the elevator and back into the apartment. She pulled out the bag of goldfish crackers and tossed it on the coffee table.

“Can I watch TV, Mom?”

Elena shrugged and left him, closing the bedroom door behind her. After an hour of cold pitches to strangers, a notification popped up about the status of her Flea Market booth request.

We regret to inform you that our market does not accept requests from any MLM-based business.

She sobbed over the makeup counter until she caught sight of her ruined face in the mirror. Wiping the black from her eyes as best she could, she took a deep breath and called Lillian.

“Sorry to hear that you’re having troubles, dear. Have you tried giving samples? Have you asked your husband to bring a catalogue to work? There are new networks everywhere, dear.”

“He won’t do anything for me,” Elena said. “He refuses to budge.”

“Typical husband,” Lillian said. “In the end they all become Puritans, don’t they? Perhaps you should make something of that. Perhaps you could initiate him without his knowledge?”

Elena glanced at the window. Again, a worker in orange climbed up the crane, the ladder endless. Every day must have been gruelling. She thought of Samuel, the way he always clung to his briefcase, always working, always on the defence.

“I don’t know if I could do that to him,” Elena said.

Lillian laughed. “Why would you ever let a Puritan get the best of you, dear? Don’t let your story sway simply because of a little tension!”

Elena sprayed a pump of “Frozen Chateau” over her wrist.

She imagined her chateau, a dilapidated estate in France, broken shutters and cracked pillars. The collapsed roof let the snow in. She imagined herself leaving footprints as she drifted through the halls, her fingers grazing over the crumbling plaster. She drifted up the old steps, pressing the weathered brocade wallpaper back into place.

Oh, how those rooms would sing again, the way they were meant to.

How perfect it would be, tending to the rose gardens and brushing the rust off of the old iron gates.

Wine in the summer evenings.

Parker tossing rocks into the nearby brook.

Her and Samuel caressing under the moonlight in the poster bed of their master suite.

She sat down on her tufted seat and typed his credit card number into her phone.

The order confirmation appeared on Elena’s screen and she held her phone to her chest, closing her eyes and envisioning spring.

“Blessed be!” she cried.

It was Samuel who brought the Initiation Kit in.

You’ve taken the first step to SPELLBOUND freedom!

Samuel threw the box at her feet. It skidded over the tiled floor. Elena swallowed before retrieving it, her husband staring down at her, his Puritan lips contorted in disgust.

“Honestly, I don’t know you anymore.”

Elena stood.

“No woman could ever sell this much shit,” he said.

“The other women do,” Elena tried.

“No, they don’t, Elena! They’re manipulative, horrible people, and that Lillian woman is taking advantage of you! That’s the whole point! The money funnels upward. You just buy this shit and you spend the entire day staring at your phone. You can’t even pretend to care about our son.”

Elena struggled to draw a breath. She glanced into the living room, at Parker, sitting rigid and terrified. Baby. Her baby, but he wasn’t a baby anymore. She just wanted to stay home, to be with him, to work on the side, have it all, just as Lillian once promised.

She licked at her burgundy lips and glanced back at her husband.

“You don’t believe in me,” she said.

Samuel gathered his breath. He blinked, staring at her like he couldn’t see her. “No, I guess I don’t.”

The Initiation Kit slipped in her grasp.

“Get it out of here,” Samuel said.

“What?”

“Get out of here.” His voice trembled. “I don’t want you in this house.”

“But Sam—”

“I don’t want a stranger in my fucking house.” Anger now. Puritanical.

“Sam, please.”

He grabbed her purse off the counter, grabbed her Mercedes keychain off the key rack beside the door. He shoved them at her. Elena gasped, fighting to hold her possessions. She begged him, pleaded, weakening in her defence as Samuel pushed her out the door.

“Go cry to your stupid Coven.”

The door closed, leaving her in the grey nothing of the hallway. Parker wasn’t sick anymore, but all she could hear was crying, crying, crying.

Lillian pulled back her heavy front door and gawked at Elena’s black tears. “Oh, goodness, dear! What happened?”

“Sam kicked me out.”

Lillian pulled her into the warmth of the house. Elena cradled the Initiation Kit to her chest as she was ushered into the living room. The remaining two Maidens sat, sipping their Malbec.

Abigail shifted, a knowing look on her face.

Fiona cringed.

“Dears, it’s time to aid our sister this time of need.” Lillian went to the bar and poured a fresh glass of wine.

Elena shed the burden of the Initiation Kit, setting it on the couch beside her to the take the Malbec. Its heavy weight twisted down her throat, reviving the demon again.

“I don’t believe you’re trying hard enough,” Fiona suggested.

“I bought more stock,” Elena said. “I gave samples. I tried to sign up more people.”

Lillian pushed the Initiation Kit aside and sat down beside Elena, lifting close to tip the glass against her lips.

“Why wouldn’t you take my advice?” Abigail asked. “I told you that negativity would be the death of you.”

Elena choked on the wine. She tried to make eye contact with Abigail, tried to connect with her like they had at the apartment, but Abigail sat still and accusing and rigid. Elena struggled to swallow against the thickness in her throat. Red dribbled down her chin and onto her dress.

“Oh, dear,” Lillian said.

“Please,” Elena said. “Please, I need your help.”

The Maidens chuckled.

“This is a horrible story,” Fiona laughed.

“I tried as hard as the rest of you,” Elena managed. The acidity worked up. She choked on it. She tried to swallow but the red spilled out between her fingers. “I did everything right!”

“Oh dear, what happened to you?” Abigail asked, fingering the padlock on her neck again. “Certainly a woman of your experience should have no trouble in this business. I used to look up to you, Elena.”

Elena sobbed. She set the glass on the coffee table, wiping at her face only to smear her lipstick on her hand.

Lillian handed Elena the Initiation Pack again.

“Give yourself another chance, Elena.”

Elena shook her head. “There must be something else I can do.”

“Up you go, dear.” Lillian helped Elena’s withered figure off the couch and urged her toward the front door. “Go and find yourself a new Initiate. Share your story. Make it better. Make it pleasant one. Nobody wants a bad story. They want to be SPELLBOUND, don’t they?”

Elena could only nod as the women’s laughter sent her toward the door.

Lillian guided her outside, onto the streets where people looked and stared at her black dress, her ruined makeup, the red on her lips like she was hungry and eager for a meal.

She held out the Initiation Kit.

SPELLBOUND

SPELLBOUND

SPELLBOUND

“I…I have an exciting opportunity,” she said.

“Would you like financial freedom?” she asked.

She swallowed and firmed her stance. “Hey, dear! Would you like to change your life?”

Everyone wavered. They gawked. They stared.

They laughed, all of them Puritans.

They all crossed the street to avoid her.