I push the portrait open and find all of our living room furniture pushed against the walls. Granger has arranged candles and a big circle of runes. Chalk? She’s drawing on the hard wood with chalk. I cant even see where she put the rug. This was clearly not going to be a comfortable time. The ritual aspect of it made me nervous. What if she gets hurt? What if it backfires and I hurt her? No. I cant think like that either. I need to trust her theory isn’t deranged, I need to remember she wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t have to. She doesn’t want this she feels like she has to do this. You owe her that. I decide this will be my new mantra. I chant it over and over again as I watch her draw her runes, and place her candles at the correct degrees. She’s wearing a ridiculously large black knit sweater and her legs are bare. I see her wand and a bowl sitting by the fireplace. I drop my bag on the ground and she finally looks over at me, face blank, hair wild. She’s in the middle of her circle, crouched, observing me observe her.