The Forgotten Home Apothecary Book Novels & Stories

“I’ve got your back.” “You always do. Thank you, my love. I’ll be home by nine.” “Have a good day. I love you.” “I love you too.” The call ended, and I felt even better. I went back to searching for a novel until I found one… actually, it wasn’t a novel. It was a nonfiction book on marital problems written by a divorce lawyer. I thought it was interesting. And it had enough pages to keep me busy for the rest of the day.

My breath caught in my throat to see an ancient book about medicinal herbs and techniques with the title. “Herbs of the wild and healing magic.” The name embossed in golden letters across the worn leather cover widened my eyes. I gently flipped through the pages, reading notes on rare plants, healing methods, and ancient remedies. It was the kind of book you would have to search high and low to find. At the last page, a sticky note was stuck in crooked handwriting. “Figured this might come in handy for your future healer’s world domination. Thought of you when I saw it among forgotten books in the library.

She had managed to arrive at an approximate sum. Apart from the general expenses, there must have been plenty of other hidden expenses over the years. To be on the safe side, she decided to triple the tallied amount. Around noon, she sorted out all the gifts Cleo had given her in the past and listed all of them on an online market site. Then, she contacted a real estate company and put the Millers’ family home on sale. After everything was done, she felt like a weight was lifted off her chest. As soon as she lay down on the bed, her phone vibrated.

Something waiting. --- Determined not to be paralyzed by fear, I returned to the antique bookstore — to the stories, the secrets, the fragments of forgotten women. The elderly owner greeted me with a knowing smile. “You’re searching for answers,” he said quietly. I nodded. He handed me a leather-bound tome, its cover worn but strong — *Reflections of the Forgotten*. “Read carefully,” he advised. “Sometimes the past speaks through shadows.” --- I spent the night poring over its pages. The book told of women trapped in illusions, caught between worlds — ghosts of themselves, struggling to reclaim their true identities.

- Final Solution* Beatrice Caldwell? Quickly, I pull out the folder. The folder is thin and contains only a few documents. I open it. And the first words I see on the first document instantly drags me down memory lane. *Nightshade acquisition, 50 packets. Supplier: Morgan’s Apothecary* Apothecary? Nightshade? Nightshade was Beatrice’s favourite tea brand, but to have it gotten from an Apothecary? What the hell is going on? Hurriedly, I bring out my phone and begin taking pictures. Now is not the time to ask questions. I take photos of all the documents before closing the folder and putting it back into place with the others inside the cabinet.

The CLOSED sign was now hanging at the entrance. Didn't realize how much I missed coming to this place,Mrs Cherry was still so sweet as ever. She even gifted us extra packs. Wait a minute. I looked down at my hands, wait why do I have four packs? Damn it the other two belong to Dexter, and I forgot to give them to him. I sighed angrily , what's going on with my brain these days? I adjusted the bags in my hands and quickly brought out my phone. I dialed his number. It rang for a few seconds before he answered.

"Don't forget, she's been preparing your special blood vials all these years. Those potions that stabilize your bloodlust? She made them herself. No one loves you more than she does." "So what?" Theron waved a dismissive hand. "It's her duty as an alchemist. She's atoning for what she did." His eyes were full of disgust. He glanced back at the ash on the floor, his face grim again. "Alright, let's get back to the case." He turned to a junior enforcer. "Have any disappearances been reported lately?" The enforcer shook his head. "Even if a pureblood went missing for a day, their family would get a blood-link warning. For a death this violent... the psychic backlash should have been immense. Th

I nodded, avoided her gaze, and went to the kitchen to get some water to take the medicine. That night, Mom slept beside me. I fell asleep quickly, but I had a nightmare. In my dream, I kept going back to the day I was hypnotized. The hypnotist had held me down and kept telling me to forget what my family looked like. I had tried to force myself awake, but no matter what I did, I could not wake up. In the end, I really did forget Mom, Dad, and Zack. I jolted awake from the dream, drenched in cold sweat. Mom woke up too and instinctively patted my shoulder. "What is it, Rena? Did you have a nightmare?"