Sarah felt her hands shake; She steadied them by holding tighter to high-end purse. Walking toward the direction of the Madame Papillon’s voice, her eyes grazed the containers on one of the many shelves of jars. It was filled with what looked like human eyeballs. Sarah clenched her teeth and continued into the room.
A table in the center of the room was piled with different sized and colored candles. A small milky black woman sat in a dark throne, two skulls dangled from it’s top and seemed silently evaluating her.
“Whacha come fo’, child?” Madame Papillon said,with ease and toothless. Sarah noticed that one of her eyes was replace with a little glass eye, colors swirled in it.
“My mama sent me. I-I mean… I come because my husband. Mama thinks that you could help—she said that she used to come to you when she lived in N’Orleans.”
“You Inez’iz, ain’t ya? I see da baby in ya eyes.” Madame Papillon said, matter-of-factly with grit.
“Yes, that’s my mother. Inez Andre. I’m Sarah.”
“Tell me ‘bout ya husban’.”

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