One simple wish. That was all it would take.
She shouldn’t. She was a compliance officer, for god’s sake. She’d spent her entire career preaching about the sanctity of magical protocol, the rules of engagement, the guidelines carved in stone by generations before her. Wisheswere not loopholes to exploit when the world didn’t bend your way. They were sacred. They were precious. They were regulated.
But she stepped outside anyway. Her heels echoed on the tile as she burst through the door, into the courtyard, and ran to the well. What good was protocol if it abandoned three little girls who just wanted to keep their home?
She stumbled to her knees, palms scraping the stone edge, and the coin burning hot in her fist. Her hand trembled as she pressed it to her lips.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please let her come.”
She closed her eyes, tossed it in, and waited only a moment before she plunged her hand into the water and approved the wish.
Arm dripping wet, she stayed there for a beat, her forehead bent low, waiting for some proof that it worked. A sign. A shimmer. A rush of wind. But the courtyard was silent.
Finally, she pushed to her feet on shaking legs and walked back. Every step back to that door felt heavy, as though she carried the weight of everything she’d sworn she’d never do with her.
When she opened the door to the review chamber again, her breath caught.
Standing beside Ethan in the front row, was a woman.
“She came,” Honey whispered, so softly no one could hear.
Honey stayed frozen in the doorway as Ethan took one step toward Leticia, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
The girls turned. Emma’s face crumpled and then lit up, and she leaped to her feet. Brooke’s wide-eyed disbelief.Melly’s breathless shriek, “Mommy!” And then all three of them threw themselves into Leticia’s arms.
Ethan stared on while Leticia folded them in like she’d never left.
The girls shrieked with joy, voices tumbling over each other—you’re really here,andI missed you,andI knew you’d come. Leticia laughed, brushed their hair back, and kissed their cheeks.
Honey should have been happy.
It was the natural order of things, after all. Their mother returned, and the family was made whole. Honey got her wish. She had broken every rule she’d ever lived by for this.
But god, it hurt.
Her back hit the wall as the breath drained from her. She should go. She didn’t belong here anymore. They would be fine now, better than fine. They didn’t need her, not with Leticia back. But her feet wouldn’t move, and she couldn’t force herself to walk away.
A sudden bang, bang, bang cracked through the chamber as the lead reviewer hammered his gavel. “Order,” he barked. He peered down over his glasses. “And you are?”
Leticia lifted her chin. “Leticia Westbrook Hale.”
Hale. The name hit hard. Her vision swam for a moment, and she pressed back harder into the wall.
They were divorced, she reminded herself. They’d cut ties long before Honey came into the picture.
But it hurt just the same.
The panelists glanced at their paperwork with identical disinterest, shuffling pages as though Leticia were nothing more than a late filing. “Our records show that though there is a secondary ley line under the Westbrook name,” the lead reviewer said with pinched disdain, “there is no active claim from you.”
Leticia blinked. “What does that even mean? It’s my family. My orchard. My name’s still on the deed.”
Honey’s breath caught. Because suddenly, it all clicked. If it wasn’t Leticia’s magic…
“It’s the kids,” Honey said.
Of course. She should have realized.
“Correct.” The woman in the center nodded at Honey. “Per the Enchanted Minors Protection Act, when magic transfers to children, it is classified as untouchable. And the bureau does not, will not, remove magic from children. It’s neither ethical nor magically stable.”
