In the Atlantic Key, tradition dictates a girl wait until her thirteenth birthday to choose her magic. But my mother chose my path the day I was born. As the sun set that Halloween, she swaddled me in a forest-green blanket, named me Hecate Goodwin, and proudly announced to the women gathered around her that I would be a hedge witch. An ancient practice, I would be the first in any coven in almost two centuries. This sent rattled whispers scattering among the women of the Atlantic Key.
