The woman in front of me was a surprise. I thought someone who worked in a place like this would look more, well, like a witch. Or Wiccan. Instead, she looked like someone I would invite over for dinner, wearing olive-green joggers and a white T-shirt.

“So, how can I help you? I didn’t mean to, but I was ear-hustling and heard you’re looking for books on demons?” she said. She put her hands on her hips and rocked them forward and back, like she was a used-car salesman ready to negotiate.

“Yup, demons. Exorcisms of demons, specifically,” Jess said. I turned to look at her, and she lifted her palms. “What? We are.”

I waited for the woman to laugh at us or at least ask why, but she just nodded and turned, motioning for us to follow her. I guess we weren’t the first group to come in with such a request.

We walked past wind chimes, candles, spell books, and sage sticks, to a small bookcase at the back of the store. A purple blanket was draped over the top of the shelves, like it was the entrance to the back room in a porn store.

She carefully lifted the blanket, pausing halfway through to smile at us. “Don’t want to scare the children who come in here.”

“You allow children in here?” Melissa said.

She nodded. “Sure. Their parents usually bring them in after stopping by next door.”

I wondered whether she was referring to the sex shop or the weed dispensary but didn’t really want to find out.

She crouched down to one of the shelves. “Exorcisms are right here.” She waved a finger at a row of books. “But this one is the gold standard.” She pulled out a thin, green-jacketed book. The cover was bare, save for black lettering: Exorcisms in the Modern Era, by Kristin Charity.

I reached for it, to flip it open, but Jess plucked it out of her hand first. She opened it and her eyes grew wide, and she quickly shut it.

“We’ll take it,” she said.

The saleswoman led us to the checkout area and rang up the book. As I handed over my credit card, she narrowed her eyes on me.

“So, who has it?” She slowly looked at each of us. Seeing our confused faces, she looked down at the book and then up again.

“Oh, none of us. It’s our friend Liz. We aren’t possessed,” I said a little too quickly.

Melissa leaned against the countertop. “Do we look demonic?”

The saleswoman pointed to Jess’s bandaged face. “Did this Liz do that to you?”

We didn’t say anything, our silence as confirmation.