My cousin managed to look smug, even with the green mask peeling off her chin. "From now on, your clothes will shift with you. Just a little witch trick. Makes mornings a whole lot less dramatic."
Mere's curiosity blitzed through the shock. She letgo of my hand and took a step forward. "You have to show me that spell. Please?"
Maeve beamed. "Absolutely. I'll teach you everything. But maybe not all at once?"
But whatever calm Fifi had tried to ration was gone. In the next second, she catapulted across the grass, tackled Tash and Mere, and squeezed them with a force that would've done any linebacker proud.
Tash yelped, then dissolved, hugging her kid, our kid, so hard I thought they'd both pass out. Mere squeezed Fifi back, silent tears streaking down her cheeks.
Finally, Fifi peeled away, shoving her hair out of her face. She looked at me. Not like I was a stranger, but like I was the missing puzzle piece she'd been denied for too long.
I braced for the hit, but she was faster. She knocked the wind out of me with a big bear hug, arms locked tight. My heart detonated.
A dragon hug.Caden chuckled inside me.
Pure, fierce love shoved through my chest, and I hugged her right back, lifting her off her feet. "I'm sorry it took this long. I'm so sorry you didn't have help."
She snorted, tears and laughter all tangled. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault, Dad."
That word. Dad. It hit me so hard I nearly dropped her.
Even Caden shut up, awed for once.
I set her gently on the grass.
Mom circled back. She let the dragon fade, and for one miraculous second, she didn't bother fixing her hair or buttoning her coat or pretending she was above the mess. She was just a grandma, blinking at her reunited family, eyes wet with pride.
I didn't try to break the moment. I let it ride.
Tash looked at the gathering of dragons and witches in the yard and just shook her head.
"Fantastic. My daughter's a dragon, my other daughter's a witch, and my dog's the only one without superpowers. He's going to need therapy."
Huey, if anything, looked damn pleased with himself.
I laughed. It felt good. "Let's get inside."
The place looked even more destroyed than before. I crunched over a line of dropped crackers and side-stepped a third of a pillow, but Mom didn't even blink. She took the wreck in stride and made for the kitchen, flicking on lights and going full hostess. Her phone came out of her pocket, screen pulsing with missed calls and texts, but she slapped it face down on the butcher block and thumbed it silent.
She didn't say a word to me or Tash. She just started tea. Kettle to stovetop, mugs lined, barely a twitch in her perfect posture. The only tell was the way her hands shook for a half-second before she steadied them.
The blend she chose was special, put together by Maeve for family emergencies. It encouraged calm and thoughtfulness, and tasted wonderful.
Tash followed us into the kitchen, eyes huge and part-wild, the twins and Huey trailing behind her. The dog stopped by a floor vent and flopped, pretending he'd always lived here. For some reason, that nearly did me in.
I didn't wait for the awkwardness to get worse. Hands braced on the counter, I went right for the heart of the matter. "You should stay here," I said. "At least until Fifi figures out the shifting. The first weeks are unpredictable. She could change again anytime, and you don't want to be twenty miles away if it hits. The dog's welcome, too. Though he and Lola will have to sort it out."
Mom poured the tea and set the mugs in front of everyone. I took a sip. Caden loved that blend.
Tash blinked, jaw set. She wanted to argue, but she was too tired, or maybe just too honest, for anything but the truth. "They're supposed to start school onJanuary fourth," she said. "Until then, the girls are remote. I have a full syllabus for both, and their work's all up to date. I don't want them to lose ground."
I leaned in, not letting up. "I'd keep them home longer, if you can. Fifi mustn't shift at school. They're better off here until her dragon settles."
Fifi took a sip of tea, perched on a kitchen stool, still hugging herself like she didn't believe her bones were real. Mere picked at a spoon handle, eyes darting from Maeve, who was slicing and plating an entire pie, apparently as therapy food, to her mother and back again.
Maeve finished slicing and called out, "Mere? Want to join me in the sunroom? I'll show you that clothes-shifting spell and a few other tricks. Fifi, you too. Some dragons can do little magics, and we can see if you're one of them."
Mere smiled. "Yes, please."
