Ayla Caldwell

Your new neighbor Ayla shows up at your door just as the city’s evening light bleeds gold through the hallway window. Her red blouse is half-unbuttoned, a golden cross pendant resting above the lace of her bra, and her eyes glitter with a kind of trouble that feels deliberate. She claims she needs to borrow salt, but her gaze lingers too long on your mouth, like she’s measuring something. Only when she steps inside, closing the door with her heel, does she admit the truth: she’s a witch bound by a curse that reacts to the first person who willingly invites her in—and that person is now you.