Rita Rita’s head pounded as she trudged up the steps to her grandmother’s farmhouse. The weekend couldn’t have come soon enough—every bone in her body ached, her nose was raw from sneezing, and no amount of tea or human cold medicine had helped.Gogo took one look at her and tsked, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Sit," she commanded in Zulu, already moving toward her shelves of herbs.For the next hour, Rita watched in bleary fascination as her grandmother worked—crushing dried leaves with a mortar and pestle, boiling pungent roots, muttering under her breath. The kitchen smelled like earth and spice and something faintly electric.Finally, Gogo thrust a steaming cup into Rita’s hands. The liquid inside was murky and smelled like wet tree bark mixed with vinegar."Gogo, this is terrible," Rita groaned after the first sip, her face twisting.Her grandmother crossed her arms, one brow arched.Rita sighed and downed the rest, shuddering."Now," Gogo said, pointing to a bucket on the floor fi
Last Updated : 2025-06-30
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