Maybe she’s fooled you all these years. Is it really so awful to testify against her? After all, the magistrates—who should know best—keep deferring to the afflicted girls. And the whole village heeds them.

You think back to the times you saw Mary Esty in the dusty, village lanes. Didn’t your joints ache? Wasn’t it hard to breathe in the presence of her spirit? After all, you couldn't just imagine something like this, could you?