There wasn’t much to do in Jdeidet, and having spent her entire life there, May was well aware of that. Beirut—the only city where anything ever happened—was hours away by train, and the local scrying café had banned her for life after that incident with the wand. Oodles of cash were needed if May wanted to find something to do here in the Lebanese south.
When she was younger, she’d set up her potion stand in the town center that everyone from around Marj’ Ayoun had frequented for years. This was why she was certain that she had more than enough of the experience necessary to open her own apothecary in one of her great-grandfather’s old rundown shacks.