But it’s the description that has frozen my hands. My mom has underlined the words again and again in several spots.

The Memory Thief: Weakest of the thirteen witches.

Curse: The removal and hoarding of memories. Forgetful herself, this witch covets the memories of others.

Skills: Keen sense of navigation, direction, and smell. Sees ultraviolet, sees in the dark. Sensitive to the slightest movement.

Familiars: Her moths are her weapons and her spies. They spread out all over the world at night and steal from her victims. They can be distinguished by the shifting, sparkling patterns on their wings, which are actually the shifting dust of the memories they have stolen.

Victims: A person cursed by the Memory Thief may appear normal, go about their normal lives, but they’ve lost memories of the past, of the people they are close to, even how to love others. At times, entire towns have lost their histories to this terrible witch.

I feel sick as I read these words. I stare at the moths in the drawing, tracing them with my fingers.

I move through the rest of the pages faster, skimming through the varied handwriting, squinting at some pages yellowed with age or stains. There are labeled sections:

“The Invisible World and Its Beings”

“The Oaks and Their Weapons”

“Legends”

“Secrets of the Earth and Moon”

“What Is a Witch?”

At the last section, which is written in my mom’s unmistakable handwriting, I pause again and read: