Black magic
The little notebook was powerful. Literally.
Her grandmother had long recounted tales of the magical item, often dotingly gesturing to its pride of place on the mantel piece. The girl had grown up gazing in wonder at the box that was stationed there, for her grandmother kept the book delicately wrapped in soft tissue and nuzzled within an ornately patterned hat box, the very one that had once contained her bridal bonnet.
