"That's... reductive, but essentially accurate."
"And you didn't CALL ME?" Diane's voice rose. "I'm your BEST FRIEND. This is AMAZING. You're living my fanfiction."
"Your what?"
"Never mind. Point is—I'm helping. Whatever you need. Spell research, cover stories for Marjorie, emergency wine delivery—I'm your girl." Shelooked at Liam critically. "You. Scottish. Are you single?"
"Divorced," he said warily.
"Recent?"
"Three years."
"Good. She's been alone too long and she needs someone who doesn't think cargo shorts are acceptable evening wear." Diane turned back to Cassie. "I approve. Carry on with your magical chaos. I'll be the supportive best friend who brings snacks and asks invasive questions."
"I haven't—we're not—he'strappedhere, Diane."
"Sure. Trapped." Diane made air quotes. "With those eyes and that jawline. Must beterrible."
"I'm right here," Liam said.
"I know. It's great." Diane winked at him. He looked to Margaret as if pleading for rescue.
Margaret just smiled and started unpacking her herb basket. "You'll get used to her. Or you won't. Either way, she's not leaving."
"Damn right I'm not." Diane leaned forward conspiratorially. "So. Magic. On a scale of Sabrina the Teenage Witch to Doctor Strange, where are we?"
Luna jumped onto the table—which she absolutely knew she wasn't allowed to do—and fixed Diane with an assessingstare.
"I like you," the cat pronounced. "You're ridiculous but honest. We're keeping you."
"The cat likes me! I'm officially part of the magic circle!" Diane pulled out her phone. "We need a group chat. What should we call it? 'Witches and Bitches'? 'Hex and the City'? 'The Spell Check Squad'?"
"How about 'please stop making this harder'?" Cassie suggested weakly.
"That's a terrible name. No flair." Diane started typing. "I'm going with 'Hot Flashes and Hexes.' It's perfect. Captures the chaosandthe menopause."
"I hate you."
"You love me. I'm delightful." Diane's phone dinged. "There. You're all added. Margaret, I'm assuming you have a phone even though you look like you communicate primarily through tea leaves and meaningful silences?"
Margaret held up a smartphone in a battered case. "I'm seventy-three, dear, not dead."
"Excellent. Luna—do you need a phone, or do you just judge us telepathically?"
"I judge out loud now," Luna said. "It's much more satisfying."
Cassie looked at Liam. He looked back. Both of them wore expressions of people whose lives had just been overtaken by a force of nature in a neon orange jacket.
"Welcome to the team," Margaret said, cuttingslices of lasagna with the calm of someone who'd seen this exact scenario play out before. "We're all stuck with each other now."
"I'm not stuck," Diane corrected. "I'mchoosingthis chaos. There's a difference."
The lasagna, at least, was incredible.
After Diane finally left—promisingto return tomorrow with "supplies and moral support"—the house settled into an uneasy quiet.
Margaret had given Cassie a reading list. Actual books, not just the grimoire, with titles like "Fundamentals of Energy Work" and "Grounding for the Chronically Anxious." She'd also left strict instructions: no casting anything unsupervised for at least a week.
