With he vision corrected he could make out the shops small sign above the door that read: The Magic Potion. The shop was overly gaudy and seemingly ou... of place in the low traffic town, its paint fresh and green among a sea of grays. Deeming it the first interesting time killer he had come across he ventured inside. The opening of the door triggered a faint jingle despite no visible bell. As the door shut behind him he was immediately exposed to a warm and lavish interior, completely saturated. “That really was fast,” Dave said.“Given that my big brother was the only one whose votes really counted, what else were we going to do? He controls 75% of the votes!”“Stephanie, remember to create the minutes, please,” Elyse said.“I’ll do that right now.”All of us went back to work.February 22, 1989, Chicago, Illinois“Good evening, I’m Doctor Wilbur Green,” a graying man who looked to be in his late 50’s said.“Good evening. I’m Steve. This is Jessica, and this is Kara.”“Come into my office,”. At exactly seven o'clock, the driver knocked on my door. He brought me to the same trendy restaurant that Mr. Sterling and I had eaten the previous Friday night. When I walked in, I was met by a haughty hostess. She looked me up and down, clearly found me wanting, and lifted an eyebrow at me. "Do you have a reservation?" she asked, like if I didn't, I'd better leave. "I'm here to meet Phillip Sterling. I'm Rachel Conway." It was like his name was the key to any door you wanted open. Her frosty. For the next year or so things settled into a relaxed routine. I had the children on the weekends Sheila and shitface had them during the week. The girls never did say that anything was wrong, but I noticed towards the end that Sheila wasn’t coming to the door anymore when I picked the children up. I would pull up outside the house and the girls would come running out, carrying their weekend bags. I became aware that they always appeared to be wearing clothes that I bought them on our weekend.