Cassie bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. “That’s so strange.”
“Right? Anyway, no big deal. It’s already fixed. I actually kind of liked the attention.” He laughed his golf-laugh, the one that used to make her want to throw things. “But I just wanted to mention it, since… you know. Weird things seem to be happening around you lately.”
The implication hung in the air like poison gas.
“Are you accusing me of something?”
“What? No. God, no. I’m just saying—” He held up his hands in that gesture she’d hated for twenty years, the one that meantcalm down, you’re being crazy. “—maybe you should focus on getting better. For your sake. We’re worried about you, Cass. Genuinely.”
“We’re sending you so many good vibes,” Brittany added, pressing her hands together like she was about to start chanting. “Healing energy. Light and love.”
Cassie’s skin prickled. The magic was there, just under the surface, responding to her fury. She breathed through it. Counted to ten. Imagined roots into the earth.
“I appreciate your concern,” she managed. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to buy tomatoes.”
She turned and walked away before she set anything on fire.
Behind her, she heard Brittany whisper: “Do you think she’s okay? She seemed really tense.”
And Derek’s response: “She’s always been intense. It’s why we didn’t work out.”
The magic surged. A nearby basket of apples trembled.
Cassie walked faster.
She foundLiam by the pie booth, holding two slices like peace offerings.
“I saw,” he said, before she could speak. “You handled it well.”
“I didn’t set him on fire.”
“Hence ‘well.’”
She took the pie—apple, her favorite—and stared at it like it might hold answers. Her hands were still shaking. The magic was still too close to the surface, crackling under her skin like static before a storm.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” she said. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your Saturday.”
“I’m not babysitting. I’m providing tactical support.”
“You’re hovering because you think I’m going to explode.”
“I’mherebecause I wanted to be here. There’s a difference.”
She laughed—a bitter, broken sound. “Right. You wanted to spend your morning watching my ex-husband psychoanalyze me and my neighbors treat me like a sideshow attraction. That’s exactly the Saturday anyone would choose.”
“Cassie—”
“You don’t have to pretend, Liam.” The words were coming out sharp now, sharpened by days of silence and humiliation and the constant, gnawing fear that she’d ruined everything. “I know why you’re here. The binding. You can’t leave. That’s the only reason?—”
“I’ve been free to leave for days.”
She stopped. The pie plate tilted in her suddenly nerveless fingers.
“What?”
“The binding loosened after your training with Margaret. Almost a week ago now.” His voice was careful. Measured. Like he’d been waiting for the right moment and this definitely wasn’t it, but he was tired of waiting. “I’m not tethered to your property anymore. Haven’t been for days. I could walk out of this market right now and keep walking and nothing magical would stop me.”
The world tilted. She felt dizzy, wrong-footed, like the ground had shifted without warning.
