The Maid: My Beloved Witch

The rain came down in relentless sheets, hammering against the tall, arched windows of Harper Manor. The wind howled through the barren trees outside, rattling the panes as if the storm itself were a living thing, clawing to get inside. Inside the cavernous study, James Harper sat hunched over a heavy oak desk, his brow furrowed as he pored over a leather-bound ledger. The flickering light of the fireplace cast long shadows across the room, dancing over the faded portraits of his ancestors ...