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“I mean it—we even have to take notes on things that end up getting sealed—I promise, I was not trying to be intrusive!”

Even cases that get sealed? Saga shook her head. “It’s all right, really. I actually wanted to tell you how much I appreciated what you said. I know she would have shown me eventually, but… I’m glad someone in my life didn’t know before I did. Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m the last to know everything.”

The young woman’s smile was empathetic. “I know the feeling.”

Of course she did. That was half the reason it bothered her so much. The last time Saga could remember being treated like this was when she was a teenager. “It’s infuriating, right? It’s your life, yet it feels like everyone else has made your decisions for you.”

“Totally.”

Would it be completely inappropriate to ask? “Have you seen a lot of trials like that?” This girl had been bold enough to tell Avery to show her the file, so perhaps it was the sort of thing she could answer.

Roxanne took a sip of her tea—the aroma of cinnamon wafting in a pleasing manner that made Saga glad she’d taken her suggestion to order it. “I’m not sure what you mean. That’s how all our trials are recorded.”

Saga stepped a little closer and dropped her voice self-consciously. “I mean sunderings.”

“Oh!” Roxanne immediately clamped her hand over her own mouth. With a clearing of her throat, she spoke more privately. “No, not at all, thank fate. I do wonder if that would be different if there were more of us.”

“How do you mean?”

“Humans in fey society,” Roxanne clarified. “You know sundering is a punishment exclusively meant for human witches, right?” There was a slight edge of resentment to her voice, and she fiddled with her necklace pendant as Saga often did with her Brigid medallion. Self-soothing. “I understand logically why it exists, but I can’t help but feel like it’s kinda their version of burning us at the stake?”

Both Leigh and her grandmother had tried to stress they were but visitors in the world of magic—that fey society only tolerated witches; it did not welcome them. She had never quite considered what this meant until now. “I’d…never thought of it like that.”

Roxanne turned slightly in her stool to face her. There was something about this dynamic that reminded Saga of talking about the lack of certain studies in women’s health with Magdalena when they were both still in school. “Don’t get me wrong, obviously, I get why it’s just a human thing, like… You can’t sunder fey from magic, they are magic, it would kill them. I just…” She sighed and lowered her voice further, like she was nervous her employer or someone from the courts would hear her. “I just wish they understood it still kinda kills humans too, you know? I mean, they’re still breathing, but… Is your mum even still in your life?”

“Uh…” Leigh’s words echoed in Saga’s mind. Existing, but not living. “Sort of? My grandmother raised me.” She remembered her mother the day Saga was left at the altar, the way she’d dismissed all emotion as something Saga got from her father. The more Saga had cried, the more distant and cold Audrey had been. “Which is probably for the best. Most days it feels like my washing machine has more compassion than my mother—it at least has a setting for delicate.”

That made Roxanne laugh, which in turn made Saga feel a little less sad.

“Humor aside, I don’t know how to process it yet,” she admitted. “I was raised not to dwell on what-ifs, and yet… How do you reconcile the fact that your life would be unrecognizable if someone had just done something a little differently?”

Roxanne nodded. “If Lord Blackthorn had shown mercy?”

“Yeah…” But even as Saga said it, she realized that wasn’t the only thing that bothered her. “Or if my mother had seen she was enough on her own? Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to know my dad, but… I’m not sure it was worth losing her too.”

There was a moment where the look on Roxanne’s face made her regret saying it. The sort of pained expression you often saw in kids who grew up too quickly, which made her next admission unsurprising. “I didn’t know my parents either.”

Saga slid into the stool next to her, balancing the stand on her knee with one hand. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

Roxanne shrugged as though she were trying to be Atlas but the weight had already crushed her. “Pretty Mundane shit. Dad ran off. Mum couldn’t take care of me… I was in and out of foster care growing up. Mundane foster care, to be clear. Velouette is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother—my literal fairy godmother—and I don’t think I would have survived without her.”

“Little bit of a Cinderella story you got there.”

“If going to the ball was clerical work, yeah.” They both laughed, and Roxanne checked her watch. “I actually should get back to that clerical work, unfortunately, but this was nice.”

“Thank you for talking to me,” said Saga. “I hope it wasn’t too weird. I just don’t really have anyone in my life who gets it like you do.”

Roxanne smiled again like when Saga remembered her name. It was genuine but made her seem even younger, despite her professional attire. “My pleasure. We humans gotta stick together, right? If you ever wanna get coffee or something when I’m on a break, hit me up.”

Saga’s heart felt warm as she made her way back to the seats by the fire, setting the snowflake on its stand in the center of the table just as Avery returned. “You’re in one piece.”

“I will try to not be offended by how surprised you sound,” Avery clipped, settling down in her own chair.

“How did it go?”

Avery’s face pinched in thought. “Am I annoying?”

“That good, huh?”