You march along the rain-slicked pavement to the ringing of the school bell. You see pupils piling out of their classrooms, happy that their lessons are finished for the day. Some are picked up in cars, while those walking home wait patiently at the school crossing.
Standing among the children is a plump, jolly looking woman in her late 60’s. She wears a high-viz coat and hat, and carries a lollipop-shaped stop sign. As she leads the children across the road she turns to look at you, head tilted. Around you, time seems to slow down and you feel an incredibly strong glamour emanating from her.
Weirdly, no-one else on this busy road seems to notice anything strange. Perhaps they lack your magical training and experience; perhaps they have grown accustomed to Mrs. Evans’ power; perhaps she has lifted the veil just for you.
Perhaps wickedness and guilt is not their cross to bear.
“Have you been looking for me, my dears?” asks Mrs. Evans, smiling pleasantly. “Are you crossing over or passing through?”
