Primrose gave her a look of tired disappointment. “Mika, you know the Rules. That you’ve been breaking them for weeks is something I have no choice but to overlook at the moment, but you know why it’s important to keep those children apart. I don’t like to do this,” she said to the others in a voice that was sincere and almost kind, “and if it would make you feel better, I would of course be happy for one of you to stay with each of the children, but—”

“Like hell we—”

“Primrose, you’re not listening to me.” Mika cut Ian’s explosive outburst off. She took Primrose firmly by the elbow and yanked her some distance away.

Primrose, disapproving of anything so uncouth as dragging someone, tightened her lips in annoyance. They were now standing in the shelter of one of the house’s gables with a warm, lit window beside them. Fairy lights twinkled above them and the gathering dusk had turned the air even colder. Mika’s breath frosted white.

“Don’t force me to kick up a fuss and upset those children more than they’re already going to be,” Primrose said. “I shouldn’t have to remind you of how this works. Alone is how—”

“—is how we survive, yes, you’ve said,” said Mika. “I can’t say whether that’s true or not, but one thing I do know, Primrose, is that alone is not how we live.”

Primrose’s brow wrinkled. She was taken aback, and annoyed about it.

“What would I have done today if I hadn’t been able to ask you for help?” Mika went on. “I know you’re afraid to maintain anything but the most rigid control over everything, but if you extended the same rules to yourself that you extend to the rest of us, you wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t even have been able to reach you. How can we possibly exist alone in this world when you know how much we need each other?”

“That is different,” said Primrose crisply. “As I’ve said before, a short meeting like this, or a brief gathering of adult witches in one place, poses very little risk. Three young, untrained witches living together, on the other hand, is a disaster and I cannot fathom why you seem unable to see that.”

“I do see it,” Mika said, laughing as she recalled the last few weeks. “As a matter of fact, I’ve seen quite a few disasters. I’ve also had a glimpse into a happier kind of life than anything I’ve known before.”

“I suppose you would argue that that happiness is worth any risk,” Primrose said contemptuously, but Mika knew her too well and beneath that contempt, she could hear an old pain.

“Why didn’t you raise me yourself?” Mika asked.

This seemed to throw Primrose, who blinked. “I beg your pardon?”