“What?” Brittany says, joining me in the hallway.

“Mr. B.” I hurry toward the living room, trying to figure out my best move. I wish I had one of those Near Invisible potions. Who cares if they’re illegal now? Desperate times call for desperate measures. “He’s here.”

“He’s here?” Brittany lights up and follows after me. I have a sudden overwhelming urge to yell at her, to tell her to snap out of it. He’s a creepy, abusive guy, and there’s no reason she should be so obsessed with him. But that probably wouldn’t be productive.

I get to the front door with no plan. Lex has sent me more texts.

LEX: he’s on the other side of the street, just standing there by his car. should I get out and deal with him???

SHAY: no don’t, I’ll deal with him I guess

“I told him you were coming over,” Brittany says. She smooths her hair, staring at the front door like she’s in a trance. “I thought he would be happy that I was going to try to convince you not to tell. He didn’t respond to my message, but I guess he got it.”

“Brittany,” I say despairingly, rubbing my hands over my face. She looks so genuinely happy. It occurs to me that the only times I’ve ever seen her happy have been around him. I take her in for a moment—this angry, lonely witch in her strangely empty house with her cold mom—and I’m flooded with rage. My jaw tightens. Mr. B knew she was lonely. He knew she was vulnerable, and he used that to make her dependent on him. He thought I was vulnerable too.

But I’m not. And I won’t let him mess with us.

I yank open the door and stride out onto the front sidewalk. I am completely and utterly plan-less, and for once I don’t give a damn. Brittany follows me like a lost puppy.

There’s something so pathetic about seeing him there—just a sad adult man staring at us from across the street. He leans against the front hood of his shiny black sedan, which he’s parked on the side of the road. His beard stubble looks more scraggly than usual, and his blue button-down is hopelessly wrinkled. But there’s also a healthy glow to his skin that hasn’t been there in weeks. I’m guessing it’s from sharing magic with Brittany. He still looks tired, but it’s nowhere near as exhausted as he’s looked recently. I glance at Brittany, who has frozen at the sight of him, and a half-formed idea of how I can protect her crosses my mind.