Mama Jeanne had looked at me for a long time, her eyes shining in the dim light of her little kerosene lamp.
— My daughter… sleep here tonight. My home is protected. You are too “open” these days. Even a simple dream can reach you.
But I couldn’t bring myself to sleep anywhere other than my own home.
— No, Mama Jeanne. I just want something that can help me sleep. I don’t want to stay here. I’m tired… too tired.
She nodded slowly, then stood up and disappeared for a moment behind her curtain.
When she returned, she was holding a small leaf. Shiny, green, and strange. Its smell almost made me dizzy.
She rubbed it between her palms, closed her eyes, recited a few words in a language I didn’t understand, then handed me the liquid that had formed.
— Put this on your temples and your stomach. It’s not very strong, but it should calm you a little. I won’t give you more, because your body is still weak.
I thanked her, heavy-hearted, and went back home.
Once inside the house, the silence felt too heavy.
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