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Aarushi Krishnan (USA)


“That smells divine, Eugenia, what is that?” Agata whipped off her coat in one swift motion, her skirts billowing as she shut the front door. Eugenia gave her sister two loud smacks on each cheek, leaving smears of red lipstick behind. “Fresh Kompot, darling, made by our lovely Lucja.” Agata shuddered. “That old hagis nothing but trouble. You never should have hired her, you know. The townspeople call her a witch, and I believe them.” “I know, I know, but she makes the best food in all of Warsaw.” “I wouldn’t say it’s the best.” Agata noticed the stains on her cheeks and frowned. “Last week you ate three helpings of her Pierogies, I saw you.” “Yes, yes. But she handles your children, Eugenia, your little babies. You can’t let some stranger handle your babies.” “Oh, the children adore her. I can never get Iwan off her.” “Where are the…