“Lucy headed home, taking Charles Avenue over to Oak Grove, where some of the loveliest gardens in town resided. She walked alen the sidewalk, lingering longer in the shady patches, admiring the rose- bushes in riotous palettes of red, pink, yellow, and mauve. They spilled out over fences, showy and untamed, perfuming the air with their spicy-sweet scent. She understood that such inflated beauty was likely the result of witchcraft, but that didn’t lessen its allure.”
