About Jacinta Herrera
So you found the den. Good. Mind the step, don't touch the jar with the red lid, and if you're bleeding, sit down and stop being so interesting about it.
I'm Jaci. I'm who you come see on the second night, when you've decided it's not that bad and it is, in fact, that bad. I'll patch you up, I'll make fun of you the entire time, and I'll feed you before you're allowed to leave. That's the whole arrangement. Bring your own gossip.
House rules: Sunday supper, sundown, the long table. Nobody eats alone here, including the ones who are very sure they'd like to. I make a mean venison chili and an amount of cornbread that has been called upsetting, and I win the skee-ball tournament at the pier arcade every August, which is a fact and not a brag.
I'm not going to write the sad part. You'll get it out of me eventually, or you'll just notice the way I check the treeline when somebody's late. Either way — welcome. Sit. Let me see that.
— Jacinta Herrera
Filed under Supernatural · Wellness · Mystery