Rosaline Blight inspected the blood apple, caressing her thumb over its wrinkled skin, briefly tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear.
She looks at the seller, "And you're sure these were plucked today, with no additives?"
The demon chucked. "Trust me, doll. These are as fresh as they come."
"Exactly, too fresh, this feels way too crisp."
"Ma'am, assuming you do use the term ma'am," he asked. Rosie nodded. "Ma'am, believe me when I say this is just the result of perfect cultivation of plant magic and gardening."
Rosie frowned at the demon. "Don't patronize me. My grandfather was an apple butcher, I know a preserved fruit when I feel it."
"I mean, some of them are, though I can assure you a majority are 100% fresh."
Rosie reaches further down the barrel and pulls another one closer to the bottom. "You mean like this one?" she says as she squeezes it, letting the rotten juice drip down her wrist.

The merchant chuckled nervously before it faded after realizing he fucked up.
"Alright, you got me, what do you want? Money?"
Rosaline scoffed in a how dare you insult my intelligence, kind of way that reminded her too much of her father.
"What I want is for you to pack up your stall and not come back until you actually have some fresh organic blood apples," Rosaline said as she wiped her juice-covered hand on the stand's banner.
The fraud merchant frowned. "Now, I can't do that, ma'am. I have rent to make and food to put on my table. Plus, organic blood apples are hard to come by this time of year."
"Well, I can't let you sell these. What about those who consuming preservatives would harm them, or worse, someone who would buy the rotten ones and accidentally make poisoned apple blood or blood apple pie?"
"Well, that would be unfortunate, but I can't just not sell anything."

Rosaline let out a sigh. "Alright, I'll buy the fresh ones on top, with the non-organic price, of course, and I will pay you double to throw away all the rotten ones."
The merchant gasped. "Really? You mean it?"
"I do need the apples, and the real thing would be too expensive for such a short amount, and you seem like you need the money more than I do."
She dug into her dress's pocket and pulled out a medium-large bag of snails.
"Oh, my Titan, thank you! With this, I might be able to start a legitimate business," the demon cried as he packed up his stand.
Rose put the few good blood apples in her bag and continued browsing the market. As a kid, whenever she went anywhere, she was taught to float, like you already have a destination in mind and you're just gracing the public with your appearance, to not stop, rest, take a look around.
So Rose was learning how to do that. Which was a struggle with her overachieving perfectionist mindset. But she tried.
When she stumbled across Eda's Human Collectibles booth. She was browsing various books, stuffed toys and various weird curved metal things. Rosie picked up one and started absentmindedly strumming it
"See anything you like, Blight?"

Rosie jumped at the sound of The Owl Lady's voice.
"Oh Eda you startled me! No, I'm just-killing time before I have to go back to work."
"Uh huh, how is the therapy racket?"
"I wouldn't consider it a racket. But it is going well. My patients have made a lot of progress. It is honestly so much more rewarding than working in the emergency healing center."
"And you are doing better?"
"Yes. I can honestly say I have never been happier." Rosie said fiddling with the metal thing.
"Be careful with that paperclip, if you break it you buy it."
"Oh! Sorry, I didn't realize I was doing that, here I think I have a few snails. Also is that what they're called, what does it even do?"
"My apprentice says it's to hold papers together without binding them together. Whatever that means. Say if you like fiddling with that thing so much, I have something you'll like even better."
Eda ducked down rummaging for something and pulled out a colorful melted thing.
"Huh? Huh? Very squishy, very fun to fiddle around with when you don't know what to do with your hands," Eda said, squishing the thing around.
Rose looked at the dirty blob of rubber with slight disgust. "That thing looks like it went through the trash compactor at the dump."

"I'll admit it's seen better days, but it's perfect for fiddling around with. Or 'stimming' as my apprentice calls it."
Rosaline started fiddling with the rubber thing.
"This is actually really soothing."
"Glad you think so, that'll be eighty snails?"
"What? For this beat up thing no way." Rosaline balked.
"It's very rare. A fresh one would cost you a million smails."
"Then why does the tag say $0.98?"
"Fine 98 snails."
"10 snails."
"70."
"20."
"55. And I will throw in that paperclip for half the price."
"49 final offer."
"Okay, how about this? I throw in a few dozen extra paperclips for an even fifty. Plus half off a new squishy thing."
Rosaline stared at Eda incredulously. "100 snails for the squishy, the paperclip, and throw in a couple of those books I like." she countered.
"Are you kidding? Those books are like fifty, sixty snails each. I'm not letting them go for no more than 150 minimum."
"Fine, 110 for the books, the squishy thing, the paperclip, and I will throw in a bottle of my homemade apple blood."
"Deal," Eda said, shaking Rose's hand.
Rosaline dropped the amount she owed as Eda ducked down, rummaging for the special books she knew the first middle Blight sibling was so horny for.
As Eda started looking for the books on the shelves, Rosie bounced on the ball and heel of her feet, not knowing what to say while feeling compelled to fill the silence.
"I ran into your mother the other day."
Eda froze, her hand grazing a group of books on one of her shelves.
"She really misses you."
"Is that so?"
"All she did was talk about you."
Eda continued looking for the books, but this time fingered aimlessly trying to ignore what Rose was saying.
"Don't worry. I'm not trying to get you to see her again. I just wanted to let you know."
Eda nodded. "Good to know," she said tersely. Eda continued rummaging for said books.
"She said Dell says hi."
That made Eda stop, altogether. Against her better judgment, she kept going. "He also told her to tell me to tell you that he misses you, and hopes you can reach out."
"Well. Thank you for the information but you can tell my mom to tell him that I'm not interested. And that he's better off staying away from me."
"Eda, what happened to your father was not your fault…"
Eda slammed the books down on the counter. "That's none of your business. Here's your books, and that concludes our business."
Rosie bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from flowing. Taking her stuff, putting them in her basket, walking away.
"Wait!"
Rosaline turned back around to the stand.
"You forgot the rest of your paper clips." Eda held a handful of paperclips.
"Okay thanks, it was seeing you again." Rosaline said, taking the paperclips, turning around again. Heading back to her work place, book in
She was almost out of earshot before she heard a quiet "You too."

"Okay, and that's all the time we have for today. Make sure you drink water, but not half your body weight because that can lead to overhydration and cause you to pee constantly. Be sure to say your affirmations and do the breathing techniques I showed you. And make sure you fill out those worksheets I gave you: Remember: therapy only works if you work with it. Okay, take care."

Rose wandered the halls of the institution where she worked. Smiling at her fellow therapists, receptionists, and a couple of janitors, she tried to jot down her notes from the group session.
In days like these, she was happy she hadn't continued her path of becoming Head Witch of the healing coven when a familiar scent caught her nose. The janitor had just finished cleaning a room and left his cleaning elixirs in the bucket in the junior closet.
The strong chemical scent brought her back to her childhood when her germophobic mother would lock herself in her room,or scrub her bathroom senselessly when someone flushed the toilet with the lid up.
Rosie lingered in the doorway. Knowing it wasn't good to inhale it. But she couldn't bring herself to leave.
Eventually, she subconsciously floated around the room and sat on the floor with her back against the bed frame next to the bucket. She took a deep breath, as she tried to suppress a sob but failed. Titan, did she miss her mother. Both her good and bad days.

She supposed that's why she tried to push Eda to reconnect with her parents. If her mother were alive, she would do everything and anything to make everything right. Her father, absolutely fucking not.
From when she was holed up in her room, terrified of dying from the common mold or fire flu, to when she was out and about, interacting with her and her siblings.
When she was having a good day, she always tried to make up for her bad days. She would take Rose and her brothers to the carnival and spend hundreds of snails on games, rides, and food tickets. And she would hug and kiss them and tell them she loved them so much to make for the unintentional coldness.

During the good times, when her mom was happy instead of anxious, or relatively cold, instead of constantly on the verge of a full-on panic attack which would lead to her shutting down she would try to spend one-on-one time with her kids. She would take Alador to museums to see the Beast Keeping and Construction and Engineer exhibits, Ricky to the movies, or even a math organization competition. They would only admit it sometimes, but he was a real math geek. And she would take Rose shopping or to a Healing lecture. Though Rose gravitated to the ones about psychology rather than anatomy or diseases. Mainly because those gave her mother anxiety, but also because it was nice to acknowledge mental health when the concept was always pushed aside in the Blight household, so it was fascinating to her.

Alador, Ricky, and Rose learned from a young age that the good was temporary and would eventually end, so they knew better than to say anything that might break the spell.
But the spell would inevitably break, and her mother would start to spiral, eventually leading to her locking herself in her room.
One of the first signs would be the strong smell of cleaning products.
Depending on how strong it was, you could always tell what kind of day Cara Lee was having. If it was faint, then it meant she was only doing a light cleaning, she was okay. If it was overpowering then she was in the middle of spiraling. But the real trouble was if you couldn't smell it at all, because it was often a tossup whether that meant she was locked in her room, probably scrubbing her bedroom over and over, or relaxed and happy.
Leaving the three to deal with Ulrich (their father) alone.
At most he was cold and withholding, and often demanding, especially of Alador, seeing him as his heir. He was more hostile towards Ricky in a "who keeps leaving the shoes by the stairs" kind of way.
And Rosaline who was the overachiever but in a quote "useless way", like "a ratworm whistle against a slitherbeast attack".
Although he could easily be pushed to physical violence, screaming bloody murder, throwing things at them, either whipping them or outright beating all of them with his bare hands.

When Cara Lee was in a better state of mind she would try and stop Ulrich from hitting them, although he would threaten to cut or stab her, in fear of causing another infection her bilesac couldn't take.
So more than often she would try to redirect his anger on to something else, like the other Coven heads.
And she did eventually finally step in and kick Ulrich out. She tried so hard to rebuild their childhoods and be permanently present again. Cooking their favorite meals, helping them with their homework, filling the house with music by playing piano and the living room like she used to when they were kids.
And for a minute there it almost felt like they could put their father's influence over them behind them and actually be a family with lives they enjoyed living.
But when her mother tried to bring charges against him for the abuse, the case was dismissed, and she, Alador, and Ricky were reprimanded by the judge personally for even suggesting he was abusive.

And when her mother died they were left alone with him and any reprieve they got from her was gone.
Until he died three years later from a heart attack, finally.
And the three only had each other, plus the crippling debt their father intentionally left them with to teach them a lesson on resilience. So they were forced to scrimp and save to get by.

Rosaline vowed then she would be a better parent than both her parents combined, and be the best mother she could be.
But it seemed the Titan had other plans. Every attempt at getting pregnant was either unsuccessful or ended in a miscarriage
It happened so frequently she started expecting to happen, not even bothering grieving when one ended, which ultimately made her feel more depressed.
When Odalia got pregnant, Alador was over the moon, and Rose had to put her feelings aside and be happy for both of them, which she was. She was excited to meet her niece and nephew, but was still jealous that she wasn't the first one to bring a new generation to the Blight name.
When Edric and Emira came all that faded away, all that was left was love for her niece and nephew and joy for her brother, who was more than elated to be a father and a chance to break the cycle their father forced them to be a link in. Odalia…not so much. She seemed completely disinterested, borderlining on being disgusted by her babies that she wanted. So Rose did what she did best, she stepped in.
She was the one waking up alongside Alador for diaper changes, and late-night feedings, the stomach bugs, the common mold, burping, tummy times, the shots, and then she did the same for Amity.
And once the three were old enough they didn't need to be constantly watched to be kept alive she was asked to leave.
She tried to stay in touch, but Odalia kept finding new ways to get them to avoid them.

So she focused on her career, while still remaining childless.
Until she decided to give conceiving one last try, with a donor and no partner. The pregnancy was successful, and continued to be successful, to the point where Rose's hopes actually started to go up. Until the 26th week when she went into early labor, but then there was a placental abruption, and the baby didn't survive. Soon Rosaline started sobbing hysterically
Was it her fault? Did she miss something? Did she exercise too much? Not enough? Did she roll on her side in her sleep?
This is as when she officially gave up the possibility of ever having kids, which sent her into a depressive spiral which caused her to be admitted to this institution, which eventually led her to working here; pursuing her true passion as a therapist.
So in some ways, the stillbirth was a blessing in disguise, but one with too heavy a price.
Rosie has thought about trying again or adopting but the idea of being so close just to have it ripped away again was too much to bear.
Maybe she should get back in touch with Edric, Emira, and Amity. They must miss her, and she misses them. She should also try and contact her brothers. She hoped Odalia wasn't working Alador too hard. And Ricky wasn't keeping himself too emotionally closed off.
She hoped the elixir she gave Kim didn't make her suicidal.
She hoped whichever Janitor this closet belonged to didn't come here and find her crying over his bucket of probably toxic chemicals that should have been properly disposed of sooner.
Whoever chose the light fixtures did a great job, considering how extra bright and shiny it was. And somehow made all the other bottles look so warm and fuzzy, Rosie thought as she twirled around aimlessly, until she accidentally knocked over the bucket.
"Shit, shit, shit. Titan damn it," Rosie swore as she tried to mop up the cleaning elixir with rags that were on the shelves.
As she desperately tried in vain to mop up her mess with already soaked rags, the door to the closet opened, causing her stomach to jump as though she fell from a cliff for some reason.
"Rosie, what are you doing?"
"Oh, Uncle Al. I didn't see you there." Rosie said in a zombie like tone.
"How long have you been sitting here inhaling cleaning elixir?" Alador Gardner, aka Al, said as he helped her off of the floor. He was another therapist, with light brown hair that was graying at the ends that hung in gentle waves, and square jaw. They had her mother's nose, chin, and eyes. Like her grandfather and grandmother had a baby.
"Not long, I don't think, why, what time is it?"
"A quarter after seven?"
"A quarter after-, That means I missed…" Rosie counted on her fingers "...three of my appointments." Rosie said numbly.

"You've been here for three hours?! Titan damn it, Rosie. You could seriously damage your lungs and brain. What possessed you to come in here in the first place?"
Rosie started to tear up. "I smelt the cleaning supplies, and it reminded me of my mom."
"You can just reschedule, it's not your fault. Come on, let's get you to your room."
"Hey, you know what's funny?" Rose said as her legs buckled in on themselves like a baby taking its first steps.
"What?" Al said, half carrying half dragging his high niece.
"My mom wouldn't let me be in the same room as those kinds of cleaning products. Always said they would destroy our lungs. And yet she practically inhaled them like oxygen."
"Mm-hmm, sounds like her."
"Do you miss her? I miss her? I miss her so much I even miss her compulsions, and her bad days, and how she always felt like half of her was there."
"Yes, Rosaline, I miss her everyday. I miss her bright smile, her laughter, her compassion. Is that why you were in there?"
Rosaline looked down at her feet in shame as she continued to stumble blindly down the hall. "Maybe. You're not mad that I did that, are you? I swear it was an accident, I never meant to get so floppy and miss all my appointments."
"No, no of course not. I know grief can sneak up on you out of the blue."
"The two traversed down the hallway in silence.
"We don't talk about her enough."
"What?"
"We don't talk about mom enough."
"That's crazy we talked about her on her birthday."
"That was over a month ago, and that was a one minute of reminiscing before the moment of silence. And before that it was a five minute conversation." Al said as he guided her to her bedroom as he lay her down in bed.
"Yeah well, it's hard to commiserate over the same person, when you're not talking about the same person."
Rosaline gave her uncle a quizzical look.
"Is that double talk? Are you a think police?"
"I don't know what that means, but no. Your mother was a very different person when we were kids. Granted she wasn't dealing with the pressures of being a coven head and dealing with a bile-sac related illness. Or the death of our entire family."
"Still we should talk more about her. I hate pretending she doesn't exist."
"Mmm."
They entered her room; Al gently placed Rosaline on her bed, draping a blanket over her.
"Go to sleep, Rosebud. Once you reset, you'll feel better in the morning." Something his mother used to say a lot.
Al turned away, walking back to his room. He pulled a scrying potion from his nightstand, pouring it into the cauldron in the middle of his room.
He began alternating between Alador working endlessly at his bench on the verge of exhaustion, Odalia speaking with investors on her crow phone, Amity reading The Good Witch Azura book five, Edric scrolling through penstragram, looking at a profile of a witch-bird demon hybrid, and Emira curled up on the edge of her bed, staring into space, almost aimlessly.
While he is doing this, Al lets out a single tear as it rolls down his face. He turns to his dresser and picks up a photo of all his siblings. His older brother, Joey, with his thick, curly, dirty blond hair matching his smile, completed with him sticking his tongue out and his brown eyes crossed. With her reserved smile but daring amber eyes, Cara Lee tamed her curls and put in a side snorse tail. He, with his dark wavy hair, baring an embarrassed but amused look reflecting in his hazel eyes, and his younger sister, also named Rosaline, with looser, long, darker brown hair, her smile, and brown eyes more determined. ; he clutches it to his heart and whispers, "I'm sorry, Cara Lee."
He puts it back, next to another framed photo of him as a young man holding a baby Alador in his arms, and next to that photo is a newspaper article in a photo frame, with an obituary reading "Alador Richard Gaumond Gardner, dead at 23."