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Gives Me Hives.” She held the shirt out at arm’s length. Tilted her head. Nodded. “Fifteen dollars,” she declared, placing it in the growing pile.
    â€œPlease, Ms. M, I really need—”
    â€œNow, this is the very top of my collection.” With a swordsman’s flourish, she withdrew a long, thin object from the bag. “A unicorn horn. So many memories! And not all that long ago. Just last Halloween, in fact. Ethel and I went to a neighborhood party. Two other unicorns there, but I was the snazziest.” She extended the horn toward Sadie. “You can hold it, but gently, please. It’s fragile.”
    â€œIt’s tinfoil wrapped around a stick. With elastic—”
    â€œOh dear, yes. It’s out of context. Let me put it on.” Ms. M maneuvered the stick over her hat onto her forehead and secured the elastic strap beneath her chin.
    Amazing. She didn’t look like a unicorn, but she did look, well, interesting.
    â€œIt’s very nice, but listen. My parents want to sell the—”
    â€œSuch a wonderful party,” Ms. M interrupted dreamily, galloping a few steps forward and a few steps back. “We danced the night away. And Ethel won a prize! Most Authentic Costume. Which was a miracle. She’s so scattered! First she wanted to go as a salad, but couldn’t decide between ranch and French. Then it was a woolly mammoth, but that itched and was tight under the arms. Finally she just went as herself.”

    â€œAs a witch?”
    â€œNo, as her authentic self. The real Ethel. There’s nothing as attractive as someone being her true, true self. Especially when she’s doing the mambo with a unicorn. ”
    Sadie couldn’t help but smile even as she—finally!—announced, “Mom and Dad want to sell the playhouse.”
    â€œYes, I suppose we should put all our energies there.” The witch took off the unicorn horn. She returned it to the bag, followed by the T-shirt and the snow globe. “I can’t part with any of these things, anyway. They are positively vibrating with memories.”

Chapter 13
    Plan B
    T he next morning Sadie and Ms. M stood out by the compost bin, beside the bubbling cauldron. The witch was dressed in another one of Sadie’s old outfits, complete with shoes—Sadie’s last-year soccer cleats.
    â€œReminds me of my college days on theDragonville Stompers,” said Ms. M, taking an enthusiastic kick at the air.
    â€œYou played soccer?”
    â€œStomp ball,” said the witch. She brought her foot down on a large white mushroom cap to demonstrate.
    â€œIt’s strange,” said Sadie, “how Dad and Mr. Keppler don’t seem to notice you.”
    â€œThey notice me. They just don’t see me. Or, rather, they see what they want to see. They see you with your little friend.”
    â€œYou don’t look like any of my other friends. You look like a witch in my clothes and a Milwaukee Brewers baseball cap.”
    â€œNot to them.”
    â€œOkay, my friend, they’re about to carry away the playhouse.” Sadie pointed to thecauldron. “So I hope that hex you’re working on will stop them.”
    The witch took a brimming spoonful, slurped, smiled, and nodded. “Perfect.”
    Sadie’s father and Mr. Keppler lifted the playhouse and started slowly across the yard. “It isn’t working!” Sadie wailed. “They’re almost to the street!”
    â€œThis isn’t a hex, Sadie. It’s oatmeal. Source of iron, phosphorous, and zinc. Have a taste.” Ms. M held out the spoon, but Sadie pushed it away.
    â€œDon’t you understand? They’re going to sell your house. We have to do something.”
    â€œWell, I do have a nice little hex that will wrinkle all their clothes.”
    â€œBe serious.”
    â€œI could turn them into elephant seals.”
    â€œNot that