“Okay, accepting for the moment that I am the child in this relationship, which is likely to continue for the foreseeable future, our immediate problem is this Wicked Stepmother. As the responsible adult in the room, what have you got for protection?”

I could tell I’d be seeing a lot of her surprised face from now on. “You can’t feel the wards on the house? After the way you just walked through that binding spell?”

I shook my head with a dismissive snort, annoyed that it probably looked really cute. “Never had the patience for magic; I’m just good at breaking things. Honestly, I used to get worse from my ‘sisters’ just for cutting in line at breakfast. Unfortunately, my best spell-breaking technique only works on men, and would be illegal at twice my current age.”

Her eyes widened, and I decided that maybe now wasn’t the best time to talk about my experience. “Anyway, wards. We have some, and you seem pretty confident. Good. What about school? Do we need to stay home and hide Kit here for a while?”

She must have caught the eagerness in my voice. “Oh, no, young lady, you are not getting out of school that easily. I have a masking charm that will make you ‘less interesting’ to anyone hostile, and I can get another one for Kit from…”

“…the lovely Miss Bobo, right? I could tell you two were close, but I figured you were just closeted lesbians, not a pair of witches from a less-racist universe.”

Her furious blushing and stammered denial threatened to derail the conversation again, so I did something else I’m not good at: I apologized. “Sorry, that wasn’t appropriate or relevant; this is the longest conversation I’ve ever had with another woman, and I’m really not good at it.”

“Accepted, and we’re going to have to work on your social skills, if only to protect Kit from things she’s definitely not ready to hear. And I understand the soap at your school tastes terrible.”

I paled at the memory. “Right, so for now we’re safe here and at school, but we can’t keep Kit and we can’t hand her over to the witch, so we need to fix something. We can ask her about other family on the walk to school tomorrow.”

“I’ll drive; it’s safer. And I’ll contact Jem to bring her up to speed and get that charm.” She opened her purse and pulled out a small, intricately-carved amulet. Damn, I’d missed a secret pocket. “Meanwhile, if you can sleep after all that espresso, I’d suggest you get to bed. Your second day of school isn’t going to be any easier than the first.”

“Right.” As an old trooper, I could fall asleep anywhere, anytime, and with any number of bed-partners, and wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, free of dreams and regrets.

Young troopers, on the other hand, apparently had dreams. And in mine, I wasn’t alone.