August 27, Tuesday

WHEN I took my extra eggs into Coleman's grocery to sell, he was arguing with someone in his office. From the hallway I could hear raised voices, then Coleman said, "It's your own fault. Flaunting yourself. What did you think would happen?"

A woman's voice sounded, then Coleman said, "I can't help you anymore. You're on your own here."

The door opened and out walked Tilda Benson, who glared at me before stalking by.

Coleman saw me and plastered on a big, fake smile. "Howdy, Josephine. Let's see what you got today, any double yolks?"

I glanced back at Tilda hurrying away. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, sure," he said with a smile. "Just a spat between old friends."

He pulled out his receipt book to write out the amount due to me, then handed it over. But under the receipt book, I recognized an item peeking out that I wouldn't have noticed before.

A scrying mirror.

"Thanks," I murmured, then took the receipt. "What an interesting object." I pulled out the mirror.

"That old thing?" Coleman said, gently taking it from me. "It's just a knickknack."

"It's pretty," I said. "Did you buy it around here?"

"No. It's been in my family for years." He smiled, then set it reverently on a tall shelf. "One of those things you should throw away but can't."

I nodded. "Right."