The rumors of witchcraft were spreading fast across the county. The Sheriff was on his way to investigate. A boy from a well-respected family had gone missing, and the villagers attributed it to the sightings of a witch in the countryside. The Sheriff didn't think the sightings had anything to do with the boy, but he decided to check anyway. The villagers had also been growing restless day by day as efforts by the officers to find the boy seemed futile.

         The Livres family, who had gained the people's trust through social work, did everything in their power to find their boy. Sadly, it has been unsuccessful so far. Another officer led the investigation, but at the villager's request, the Sheriff decided to see if there really was a witch. According to reports, her house was located on top of a hill in the countryside.

         The Sheriff soon reached the hill as he drove his car up, beginning his ascent. The climb was steep, but the Sheriff didn't find it challenging. He quickly spotted an old hut in the corner of a field as he reached the top. Based on the descriptions, he recognized it as the so-called ‘witch's house’.

         The place was deserted despite having cool and pleasant scenery around. The Sheriff parked his car in front of the hut. He got out of the car and walked toward the hut. He knocked at the door twice, but there was no response. Just as he thought of barging in, the door slowly opened, making a creaky noise. An old lady stood behind it.

         The Sheriff was surprised: he hadn't expected the ‘witch’ to be an old woman. 

        “I am the Sheriff of the nearby county. I have come here to investigate a missing boy.” 

       “Oh, the missing boy! But I have got nothing to do with that,” the lady replied. 

       “There have been reports of a witch sighting here. According to the villagers, she is responsible for the disappearance of the boy.”

        The woman sighed as the Sheriff spotted a frown appear on her face.

      “Come in, let me explain,” said the lady, as she walked in.

      The Sheriff followed. The lady shut the door. It was a small hut with sparse furnishings. There were candle lights placed on a small chair and a single bed. There was a table with vegetables, fruits, and some eggs on it. The room was dim, lit only by the candlelight and a small window at the top.

      The woman cleared the chair by removing the candles and placing it on the table. She lit another one for more light.

      “Come, sit here. Sorry for the inconvenience. As you can see, I am not that rich,” she said.

      “Oh, I don't mind,” replied the Sheriff.

       He sat down as the woman sat on the side of the bed. The Sheriff noticed something on the bed covered by a blanket. The lady gently removed the blanket to reveal a small boy. 

       Here's the thing: the Sheriff had no idea what the missing boy looked like. Only the lead officer had the description, not him. So when the lady revealed a boy, the Sheriff's first thought was that the rumor was true. Maybe the old lady really was a witch and had kidnapped the boy. But why would she reveal him? The Sheriff would never have seen the boy in the dim light. 

       “I know what you are thinking, but you are wrong. This is my grandson,” revealed the old lady.

       “Grandson!” The Sheriff was quite surprised.

       “Yes. Here's my story. I was born in a nearby village. I don't remember its name. I didn't go to any school, though there was one nearby. But I had learned one thing from my mother: making antidotes. I had learned to make healing potions with natural plants and vegetation.

        I was married off at a young age. My husband worked in a nearby factory day and night. Unfortunately, he passed away just a year after I gave birth to my son, due to a disease. I had to raise my son all alone, while paying for his education by working in a nearby botanical garden. He eventually married when he came of age and lived in a nearby town, working in a shop. Soon, I had a grandson.

       One day, he, his wife, and his son came here to visit me. But that afternoon, tragedy struck. My son had a severe case of food poisoning. It was something he had the previous night. All evening, I did my best to take care of him, but in the end, it wasn't enough. He passed away at midnight.

         I couldn't believe what had happened. I spent days mourning and crying, and even did my best to comfort my daughter-in-law. She, too, was doing her best to help me out and even take care of her son. He was still a small boy of three years and didn't understand anything.

         But her mental state was declining too. In the end, we didn't know how many days would last with the money I was earning. Eventually, she fell seriously ill, having lost all interest in life. One morning, I found her in bed unresponsive. I was left to take care of my grandson alone. 

         That is when it all started. People in the village first showed sympathy when my son died. But when they heard of my daughter-in-law's death, they began creating theories. For them, the fact that two people related to me died in a span of a few days means that the blame fell on me. They believed I was a witch of some sort. 

         To prove my innocence, I decided to help out the sick in the village by preparing antidotes. But the family of the sick sends me away, thinking I am using a potion made of witchcraft to kill them. I even lost my job in botany.

         I have come to think that maybe I am a witch. I have been unlucky from the start, my husband dying, later my son, and then my daughter-in-law. Even with all my knowledge of natural remedies, I couldn't save any of them.

         Now I just live off the money I had saved while I was in the botany program. It's not much, but it's enough as I have begun growing my own fruits and vegetables. But I still don't have the money to send my grandson to school. Now the village doesn't know the existence of this boy. They would believe I am somehow linked to that missing boy, as they love creating rumors. They are all empty-minded.”

        The Sheriff listened intently. He was sad after hearing, but knew he couldn't just believe it yet. After all, she might have been lying. But the Sheriff believed she wasn't. Based on her current state, he could tell she was speaking the truth. The sadness in her face made this certain.

        “All right. I think I should leave.” The Sheriff was still not certain and hence decided to discuss it with his fellow officers. 

        The woman bid farewell, and the Sheriff made his way to the car. He then went back to his office the same way he had come.

                                           *****

         That night, the village saw the worst violence ever. The villagers, frustrated with the fact that not even a single lead has been found in the missing boy's case, decide to take the matter into their own hands. They organized a protest where they marched to the lady's house, whom they believed was behind all this and was a witch.

          They carried flame torches along with sticks and pitchforks. They shouted slogans in anger and showed their frustration against the witch and the officers who seemed to have been doing nothing. They even attacked those who had been defending the old lady.

          When the Sheriff heard of this, it was too late. He rushed to the hill along with his team, but was met with a sight of about a hundred people, marching towards the hut he had been in just a few hours back. The lady hadn't opened the door in fear, and the Sheriff knew he couldn't do anything against a violent mob of people.

           It didn't take long for things to go out of hand. A few people in the front barged into the hut. The Sheriff couldn't see what was happening; he and his team watched from a distance, trying not to get in the way of the crowd. Suddenly, the men emerged, holding the boy the lady had claimed as her grandson. But she was nowhere to be seen.

          “WE WERE RIGHT. LOOK, WE FOUND THE BOY,” shouted the men.

           This made the crowd angrier. The fact that they were right all this time fueled their violent thoughts. Before you know it, they lit the house on fire with their flame torches. The house, being made of straw and wood, easily caught fire.

           That's when one of the men in the crowd, being a close friend of the Livres, the family whose boy had gone missing, shouted,

           “But that's not the boy! I have seen him, and that is not him!”

            This created confusion among people. The Sheriff was confirmed now that the lady had been speaking the truth. But all the thoughts of the people were replaced with screams from the hut, the screams of the lady being burnt alive. The Sheriff almost rushed forward, but was held back by his colleagues, who warned him it was too late. Everyone, including the young boy who recognized his grandmother in distress, watched in horror as her screams intensified. 

             Soon, the screams stopped, and it was met with silence. No one spoke a word as the fire raged on.

             The Sheriff watched the hut fall apart with deep sadness and regret. He had the chance to do something, but now everything was over. He could have shared his findings or ordered protection for the lady, but he did nothing. He had just witnessed justice go up in flames.

                                      THE END