With effort, she squared her shoulders and offered her loyal volunteers a reassuring smile. The most shocking development? Hazel Jeffords was among her staunchest supporters. Leanne had heard through the grapevine that the old woman had thrown a handful of chip and dip samples at Dan Rutherford, after she heard him shit-talking Leanne in the local supermarket. Though she’d once been opposed to the woman’s intrusion on coven meetings, she now stood firmly in favor of Hazel dropping by anytime she wished.

What would that be like? If we could really invite mundanes to join our coven, let them see how our magic works, and treat them as true siblings? Wistfully, she decided the world wasn’t quite ready for that step. But one day, maybe. Hopefully in my lifetime…

“Thank you,” she said warmly. “I appreciate all of you so much.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Gladys replied with a wink. “Break a leg, dear child.”

It took a woman of a certain age to call someone who was nudging forty a “child,” but Leanne didn’t argue. She merely left the others to lock up and headed downstairs. When she stepped out the back and passed through the alley toward the street, she spotted Dan Rutherford standing with his chief aide some distance away. They were speaking in low voices, and she glanced around, making sure she had cover from the buildings on either side, then she whispered a spell that would turn the wind in her favor, allowing her to listen in. Next, she pulled out her phone, which gave her a plausible excuse to linger, too far for most people to eavesdrop.

“…find something,” Rutherford was saying.

“She’s been unfortunately candid about her private life. Everyone in town knows that she’s been married twice, but nobody seems to care.”

“I refuse to believe that woman has no skeletons in her closet. I want all her dirty laundry, all of it! Have you seen the numbers? This is the last time I can run, and I refuse to have my term cut short by that little bitch.”

“What did you just say?” Suddenly, Hazel Jeffords was on the scene, upending the entire contents of her travel mug on Rutherford’s head.

Guess the chips-and-dip incident offered a clue that Hazel’s not having it.

“Today is not the day,” Hazel was saying, both hands on her round hips. “How dare you talk about Leanne that way?”

What would it be like if I had a mom like Hazel? Junie wasn’t the scrappy type; she would never react like Hazel. And while fighting might not solve anything—

Just then, her phone pinged with a message from Mrs. Carmenian. Normally I wouldn’t want you to see this because it might hurt you, but I suspect you can make use of this clip. Do as you see fit.